Crown of Fire
by WolfKael
Summary: Final part of the Journey of Secrets & Adrift trilogy. (READ FIRST!) Danny Fenton has a lot on his plate right now. He has a wedding to plan, a future mother-in-law who hates him, a cousin who is about to start her freshman year of high-school, a council of ghosts who are keeping their eyes on him, and an impending Anti-Ecto bill in Congress that'll turn Amity Park into a war zone.
1. Ripperton University

**A/N: The final part of the trilogy! Note to some:**

**_IF YOU HAVE NOT READ "JOURNEY OF SECRETS" OR "ADRIFT", THEN DO SO BEFORE READING "CROWN OF FIRE". THANK YOU._**

***Cough* Well, now that I've gotten that out of the way…**

**Welcome to Crown of Fire, my beloved readers! Honestly. I spoil you. How are you not all rotten to the core? I'm going to try and do longer, better-quality chapters for this one, so I plan on updating once a week. Maybe more…we'll see what happens once I get going. After all, I had a lot of time for this chapter. :D**

**Without further ado…read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #1: Ripperton University

"I thought we went over this! You can't dye your hair in the shower!"

"Where am I _supposed_ to dye it, then, huh?!"

"Somewhere where it won't _turn our tub blue_, preferably!"

"I think we all need to calm down," Jazz sighs, massaging her temples, "Jamie, you have to clean it up as best as you can. Angela, _you_ need to just…go chill on the couch and watch something. Eat Jamie's ice cream as revenge."

"Hey!" Jamie protests, blowing her sky-blue locks from her eyes, "Why can she have _my_ ice cream?!"

"To pay her back for using the cleaner _she_ bought," Jazz replies, "Unless _you_ have bleach?"

"No," she pouts.

"Good. Open the window, pour it on the stains, close the door as you leave and let it sit for thirty minutes. Use a face-mask and gloves when you go back in and scrub it off."

"Yes, _Mom_," she snorts sullenly, elbowing Angela as she passes.

Jazz chuckles and shakes her head, "It's all part of having roommates, Angie."

"I still think murder is justified," she growls.

"Why, were you having someone over tonight?"

"No."

"See? There's a bright side," she smiles. Her phone rumbles in her pocket before beginning to play a ditty a fan wrote for Danny Phantom. She whips it out with a smile, turning her back to the ruined tub, "Hey, Danny!"

_"__Is it still that stupid theme song?"_ he groans.

"Yep!" She grins, "So, how've you been? Are you almost to Amity?"

_"__Good. Actually, I'm a few hours away from where you are. There was…an interruption. Anyway, it's getting dark, and there are deer on the way to Amity. I don't want to hit one. I need some sleep anyway. Do you know if your couch is open tonight? If it isn't, don't worry, I can pay for a hotel room–"_

"Let me just ask my roommates," she interrupts, "But _I_ don't mind. Hold on a moment," she lowers her cell, covering the mouthpiece, "Hey! Angela, Jamie!"

"Yeah?" Jamie pokes her head from the bathroom.

"Mmm?" Angela looks around the corner from the kitchen.

"My little brother, Danny, is on his way back to Amity and was wondering if he could crash on our couch tonight. That okay with you guys?"

"Yeah," Angie nods, "I've never met him. I'm kind of curious what he's like."

"Jamie?"

"I don't have a problem either," she shrugs, "As long as he doesn't snore."

"Thanks," she smiles, lifting the phone again, "Hey, Danny, you still there?"

_"__Yeah."_

"They're okay with it. When should I expect you?"

_"__Well…let's see…it's about six right now…see you at eight or so? I'll call you when I get to your parking lot."_

"Yeah. See you then," she smiles, snapping her phone shut.

She's about to start her fourth year at Ripperton University. It's a state-of-the-art college with the best ecto-related programs, and only a two hour drive from Amity Park. While she'd originally planned on Havard or Yale, she'd found Ripperton to be closest to home and the best fit for her major.

"So, what _is_ he like?" Angela asks, taking a bite of Jamie's triple-Belgian-chocolate ice cream, "Your brother."

"Danny?" she allows herself to fall to the couch, "He's pretty cool, as little brothers go. He's a bit of a dork, and really nice. He's _super_ protective of people though. Like…when I started dating this guy, he spied on me and kept interrupting…"

"_That_ is cool?" she snorts.

"That guy, unbeknownst to me, was actually a ghost who was trying to give me his girlfriend's stuff so she could steal my body," Jazz smiles insincerely.

"Oh," she swallows, "Right…you're from Amity Park."

"Yeah, Amity Park," she laughs, "Danny knew the entire time, but he didn't want to risk sounding more like my parents than he already was. We – everyone in town – were all still pretending that ghosts didn't exist at that point in time. We just…didn't want to believe it."

"Was it a ghost I've heard of?" she asks, leaning forward.

"Yeah, maybe," she grimaces, "It was Johnny Thirteen."

"The motorcycle ghost?!"

"Yeah. He saved me from getting crushed by a roller coaster – a disaster he _caused_, by the way – and I was caught up in the heroic bad-boy deal," her cheeks are pink, "It was pretty embarrassing when I realized I'd totally let my mind go like that."

"Wow," she laughs.

"And thus ends the full extent of my teenage rebellion," she jokes back.

"I almost wish I'd grown up in Amity Park," Jamie shouts, "It would've made my childhood _so_ much more interesting!"

"Yeah," Jazz snorts, "Tell me that after you've been dragged into the ghost zone to be ruled by an evil ghost king, or after your computer comes alive and attacks you…or when you can't drive to school because there's a ghost fight going on in the middle of town – or because a fight destroyed the road!"

"Okay, so everything has its plusses and minuses!"

"Yeah," she laughs, "I always had good research materials, that's for sure. But back to Danny…he's the type of guy who will run into a burning or crumbling building without a second thought. I would know, because he's done that."

"Really?" Angie asks through a mouth of ice cream.

"Yeah. I thought I was going to have a heart attack. All of these people are rushing out of this building that's about to collapse, and Danny runs _inside_. The building collapses before I see him come back out, and I'm scared out of my wits…and then he jogs from the dust, carrying an older woman in his arms. They'd been close to the entrance, but he still received a nasty bruise on his back shielding her from the rubble."

"Oh my gosh," she swallows, "So your brother's like…a hero…"

"Yeah," Jazz replies nervously, "That's Danny."

_If only you knew the whole story._

-BREAK-

It's eight-fifteen when she gets the call. She skips down the steps to the parking lot, grinning when she rounds the corner of the building.

Danny sits astride a large, black motorcycle – his pride and joy – in his riding leathers. He grins back, his blue eyes bright in the streetlamps, and opens his arms, "Jazz!"

She leaps into his hug, shocked once again at how much taller he's gotten. He towers several inches over her now.

"How've you been, little brother?" she smiles, "Looking forward to being back in Amity?"

He grimaces, "Yeah. I get to listen to Danielle complain _in person _about us forcing her to attend high school. Then I get to deal with my furious and frazzled fiancée who is fed up with my frustrating future mother-in-law."

She laughs, "Are they arguing about something _again_?"

"Yeah," he growls, "How hard can it be to _plan a wedding_!? Especially one _we already know the details for_?! It's ridiculous, Jazz. I mean, I know I agreed to a year-long engagement in order to satisfy Mr. and Mrs. Manson – mostly Pamela, I _assure _you. Jeremy and I are getting along pretty well, if I do say so myself – but it's been _four months_ of the most rigorous planning I've ever seen!"

"Weddings take a long time to plan. I know it seems ridiculous, but it's one of the most important days in a girl's life–"

"Sam and I _knew_ what we wanted!" he groans, "We wanted a small group, only the closest friends and family, in a small chapel. We wanted it during winter, but I'm sure that if we decided not to wait, I could work with Frostbite to manufacture a winter wonderland…maybe we should just elope to the Far Frozen. Frostbite's a king…"

"_Danny_," she elbows him, "Just be patient. Tell Sam I told her to hang in there," she turns the lock to her apartment.

"Will do," he rubs at the back of his neck.

Her door swings open, and Angela's head pokes around the corner. Jamie exits the bathroom, removing her face mask.

"Angie, Jamie, this is my little brother, Danny," Jazz smiles, "Danny, this is Angela–"

"Hi," she tucks a honey-brown swath of hair behind her ear.

"And Jamie," she finishes.

"Hey," she grins widely.

"Nice to meet you," he grins, "I hope she doesn't drive you crazy."

"I was just saying good things about you!" Jazz pouts teasingly.

"She mother you guys too?"

Jamie giggles – in the girliest fashion Jazz has _ever_ heard – "Yeah. That's Jazz."

"Yeah, it is," he laughs, "Thanks for letting me crash on your couch tonight, by the way. I _really_ didn't want to pay for a hotel."

"No problem," Angie interjects quickly, "I'll go get a spare pillow and some blankets for you."

"I'm fine," he assures, "I don't want to inconvenience you–"

"Danny, we have some spares for when Jamie throws parties and we have people who can't have their keys back. It's okay," Jazz explains, and he relaxes.

"Alright. Thank you," he smiles.

"Let me go get those with you," Jamie turns, tapping her hand on her thigh after making eye contact with Jazz.

"Just put your stuff down there," Jazz explains quickly, "I'm going to make sure they don't destroy the linen closet."

"_Mom_," he snorts.

She walks briskly to where Angie and Jamie wait, in front of the closet.

"What?" Jazz hisses quietly.

"_That_ is your little brother?" Angie asks.

"Yeah…"

"How old is he?" Jamie spills quickly.

"…nineteen," she looks between the two of them.

"When I asked you about him, you forgot to mention that he's _hot_!" Angie whispers.

"Yeah, what's the deal?!" Jamie adds.

"Firstly, because he's my _brother_."

"You can brag about your siblings."

"Secondly, you don't have a chance with him anyway."

"Right," Angie shifts, "He has a girlfriend already, I'm sure."

"Girlfriends aren't permanent. I'll bet he's had tons," Jamie defends.

"No, he's only had one, and she's now his _fiancée_. Trust me, Sam isn't going anywhere," Jazz reaches past them, "Now let's get some pillows and blankets for him, hm?"

"_He's_ engaged. At _nineteen_."

"He's known Sam since middle school. Everyone in Amity Park knew they'd end up together from the moment their eyes met. I mean, it took them _until the beginning of Junior year_ to start dating – heck, to even admit that they liked each other – but if love at first sight exists, Sam and Danny experienced it," she piles two blankets and pillows into their arms before leading them into the living room again. Danny reclines on the couch, his boots kicked off.

"Sorry it took so long," Jazz frowns, "They didn't put them away properly last time we washed them."

"No problem," he shrugs, his blue eyes flicking open. A knowing smile emerges on his face, "Thanks," he takes them from her hand, "I plan on leaving early tomorrow. No later than nine. I'm just going to call Sam before I sleep."

"Yeah," Jazz smiles, "I have some studying to do. See you in the morning. Make sure I see you before you leave."

"Yeah."

She pulls her roommates away, "Let's go check the bathtub."

Danny watches her drag the two young women away and chuckles, pressing the 'one' on his speed dial. She picks up on the first ring.

_"__Hey, Danny. When are you getting here?"_

"I ran into some trouble on my way there, so I'm crashing on Jazz's couch tonight. I'm leaving by nine A.M. tomorrow, though, so I should be in Amity Park before noon."

_"__Yeah, I wouldn't want you hitting any deer on your bike," _she mutters on the other side, _"I can't wait until you get here. She's driving me crazy, Danny. I might _actually_ commit matricide."_

"Jazz told me to tell you to hang on," he laughs, "It's driving me insane too."

_"__I just want to get married,"_ she groans, _"Why is she turning _my_ wedding into a circus?"_

"Sorry," he winces, "I'm just trying to stay even _vaguely_ in her good graces."

_"__Her hatred of you is unjustified,"_ she snorts, _"…did you see the news today?"_

"Yeah," he clenches his jaw, "They're trying to push some _major_ anti-ecto laws."

_"__Danny, if they pass it, Amity Park…"_

"It'll become a war zone," he finishes, "Yeah…"

_"__What if…"_ he can hear her swallow thickly on the other side, _"What if they find out about you?"_

"Worrying about it now won't do anything," he answers gently, "We'll take the challenges as they come. We have too much on our plate as it is. We'll stress ourselves to death if we worry about every possibility. They haven't found out so far."

_"__The amount of people who know your secret is a bit more than just Tuck, Jazz, and I now,"_ she argues, _"The chances someone will slip…"_

"Sam," he cuts, perhaps more sharply than intended, "don't worry about that right now. We can't erase their memories, so there's no point in worrying about it at this point."

_"…__I know,"_ she sighs, _"…you should've kept the Reality Gauntlet."_

"The ability to be master of all reality in the hands of a teenage boy?" he snorts, "Yeah, that would've been _brilliant_. I know a potential train wreck when I see one."

She laughs, finally, _"…I love you, Danny Fenton. You better not die on me."_

"I'll try my best…" he whispers.

_"…__but you won't promise…even just until our wedding, will you?"_

"I can't promise that," his voice is barely audible.

_"__On the bright side, you'll be 'back in range' for our telepathy,"_ she grins, _"It's been weird not to get more than vague impressions from you."_

"Same here," he laughs, "Anyway, I need to sleep. See you tomorrow," he smiles, "I love you, Sam. I hope you finish killing me for years to come."

_"__That's the plan."_

-BREAK-

The first thing he notices besides the sunshine is Jamie's sky-blue hair as she wanders around in her pajamas, peeking around corners with a confused expression.

"Angie, have you seen Jazz?" she yawns, scratching at the collar of her tank-top.

Angie emerges from the kitchen, perfectly groomed and munching on a bowl of cereal, "There was a note about heading to the library. Weird, though…her wallet is still on the counter."

"You don't think she _walked_ all the way to the campus library, do you?" Jamie snorts, shifting her hands to her hips.

"She probably didn't go to the _campus_ library," Danny answers, fighting a smirk when she jumps. His eyes lock to an empty spot beside the television, where he'd seen a more refined version of the Fenton Porta-Portal the night before.

"Oh, so which library did she go to?" Jamie asks, her voice an octave higher than before, "I really need to ask her something," she pulls at the hem of her booty shorts.

"Just a guess, but I think she's probably doing some ghost research," he sits up, running a hand through his hair, "So she's probably at Ghost Writer's place."

"…Ghost…Writer?"

"He's a pretty powerful spook," he explains, "he can drag you into a story where anything he writes comes true. He was in prison for a while after breaking the Christmas truce, but he's not exactly…evil. He just…really, the _only_ reason he ended up in trouble was because he did it during Christmas. It's a long story," he adds hurriedly, seeing their curious faces, "and totally my fault for being a jerk. Anyway, it's _really_ urgent?"

"Y-y-yeah," she nods, "I couldn't get her on her cell…"

"No cell reception in the Infinite Realms," he laughs, rummaging through his backpack until he finds a Fenton Phone. "There's usually this odd device by the TV here, right?"

"Yeah, Jazz told us not to touch it," Angie nods.

"As though we could," Jamie adds, "It has a fingerprint scanner on it."

"Oh, of _course_ you tried it!"

"What _is_ it, anyway?"

"A portable ghost portal," Danny replies, zipping his bag, "Where better to get information on ghosts than a _ghost library_?"

"So she's…" Angie's spoon clatters into her bowl, "_in the Ghost Zone?!_"

He nods.

"So, wait…she can just…open a portal to the land of the dead?" Jamie whispers, "That is _so cool_!"

"Well, she has to have to coordinates for it if she doesn't want to end up in Skulker's Lair or Walker's Prison," he sighs, "…is it urgent enough that I need to go get her for you? She's probably been in that library all night anyway…"

"Yeah, it's _really_ important," she smiles sheepishly, batting her eyelashes, "I suppose that _you_ have one of those porta-portals too?"

"Sort of," he answers, "I'll go get her then. Stand back a little, will you?"

They oblige, and he focuses his thoughts on Ghost Writer's mansion. A soft green glow encompasses his hand, which he slowly lifts into the air. The glow solidifies into claws at his fingertips. He rakes his fingers through the air, tearing a hole into the ghost zone. It stabilizes a second later, and he allows the glow to fade.

He places the Fenton Phone into his ear, "Jazz. Jazz…calling Jazz! Your roommate says she has something urgent to talk with you about!" he waits, knowing the most likely response.

Silence.

He mutters a curse under his breath, "She's not wearing one. I'll have to go get her."

"Wait, you're going in?" Angie squeaks.

"Yeah…" he hesitates, halfway through the portal.

"Can I come?" Jamie asks quickly, pulling on a pair of pants she'd fetched from her room, "I've never been in the Ghost Zone!"

"I'd like to see it too," Angie whispers quietly, "If it's safe."

He stares at them for a moment, before relenting with a sigh, "Do whatever I tell you, and you'll be fine. It's not much farther."

"Can't you open a portal right in front of his door?" Jamie frowns.

"No," he snorts, "First of all, lairs in the Infinite Realms float around a bit – but they stay in a general area. Secondly…it's rude to open a portal into someone's lawn. Are you coming or not?"

"Totally!" Jamie grins.

"Yeah," Angie nods, placing her empty bowl on the coffee table.

He sticks a hand out, beckoning them, still halfway through the portal, "Let's go, then. Remember; _everything I say_."

Jamie follows behind him as he vanishes completely from sight, pulling the more hesitant Angie behind her.

They wobble in the lack of gravity, a small yelp falling from Angie's lips. Danny laughs, pulling her upright, "keep your feet together. Just let yourself settle for a moment. You'll get your bearings soon enough."

They follow his advice, doing their best to copy his stance.

"See that shadow over there?" he points behind them, beyond the portal, where a large shape looms, "That's the mansion. Follow me."

"S-slow down," Angie whimpers, wobbling beside Jamie. Her eyes are wide, locked on the infinite space beneath them.

"Are you afraid of heights?" Jamie asks, allowing her terrified roommate to cling to her arm.

"Maybe," she replies.

"…do you want to go back home, to terra firma?" Danny questions, floating in a lazy circle around them.

"No, I want to see this…library."

He stares at her for a moment, contemplating, before he holds out a hand with a smile, "I'll help you. Jamie's going to lose circulation in her arm at this rate."

She takes his hand, surprised at the calluses she feels on his palm, and he leads the small group slowly towards the mansion.

Jamie gapes at the swirling green nebula, noticing the other oddities. More shadows float above, below, and around them, leaving her wondering what else is out here.

They're almost to the steps when she hears the motorcycle, and Danny screeches to a halt, his blue eyes snapping to the sky.

"Hey!" Johnny Thirteen rumbles to a stop at the bottom step, "That was some nice driving the other day. We'll have to race again – on _my_ turf, this time."

"Why, can't win anywhere else?" Danny retorts, "Just leave the shadow at home, huh?"

The ghost snorts.

"I would've made it home to Amity Park _last night_ if you hadn't shown up!"

"Sorry, man," he raises his hands, "I had some jitters to work off, you know?"

"For what?!" Danny frowns.

"…Kitty and I…well, we're…going to do it, you know?" he scratches nervously at the stubble on his jaw, "We're tying the knot."

"About time," Danny breaks into a grin, "You've only been dating since…when, the Eighties?"

"What about you and your little Goth girlfriend?! You've been engaged for over a year now, haven't you?"

A small blush rises in the halfa's cheeks, "It was the condition to get her parents'…well, her mother's…blessing. It's currently in the planning stage."

"Dude, it was totally the news of the Ghost Zone," Johnny laughs, "Frostbite was beside himself when he realized that you hadn't told him you were planning that proposal. Even more distraught that you didn't commission his people for the ring."

"Johnny, you know as well as I do that if Frostbite had learned about it, it wouldn't have been much of a surprise. Is he _still_ sulking after more than a _year_?"

"He worships you," the ghost shrugs, "So…weren't you banned from Ghost Writer's library?"

Danny cringes, "We've reached an understanding. I'm just here to get Jazz."

"Got it. Tell her the news? Let me know if she wants an invite. We haven't set a date yet or anything…"

"Yeah, I'll let her know. See you, Johnny."

He takes off in a cloud of exhaust, and Danny turns to the steps.

"That's the first time I've been so close to a ghost," Jamie whispers, "that was so cool!"

"You seemed pretty friendly with him, Danny," Angie questions.

"Johnny doesn't typically cause any big problems. His shadow, maybe, and his jealous girlfriend, definitely. We like to compete with each other, but I wouldn't call him an _enemy_, you know? Come on, let's find Jazz."

They stride into the mansion, every wall covered in books. Stepping softly, they work through the corridors, glancing for a shock of orange hair.

"So this is the _original_ copy of The Legend of Pariah Dark?"

"Yes. It's in Latin, though…"

"I've been learning Latin," Jazz smiles, "Danny practices with me. He's actually really good at it, you know?"

"Clockwork's tutelage of the halfa is the only reason he's allowed in my library," the Ghost Writer snorts, his green eyes glowing softly behind his spectacles. His goatee has been trimmed, now close to his chin. His black hair, however, is as unruly as ever, sticking up in odd places, as though he's just rolled out of bed. A cup of coffee steams beside him, and another in a matching cup beside Jazz.

"He apologized about the Christmas poem incident," she smiles and shakes her head.

"Indeed. I'd like to think that my lesson helped him improve as a person. It makes the time I spent at Walker's seem worth it," he types absently on a keyboard in front of him.

Danny swears quietly, "that reminds me," he grimaces, "I have a meeting with the Observants' council this week."

"What?" Angie hisses.

"…don't worry about it," he strides from the column of books, "Jazz!" he shouts as loud as he dares – normal speaking volume, but in the hush of the mansion, it _feels_ like he's shouting.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Ghost Writer drolls.

"Jamie? Angie? What are you doing here?" Jazz stands, her blue eyes filled with worry.

"Jamie said she had something urgent to talk to you about. You weren't wearing your Fenton-Phone, so I had to come get you. They wanted to come along, and I figured it couldn't hurt. There's no one in these parts that'll attack me, after all."

"True," Jazz nods, "Wait, you opened a portal in front of them?!"

"Yeah, remember?" he lies through his teeth, "Mom and Dad are working on that new porta-portal deal? The one I'm testing for them? The top-secret one that _no one_ is to mention?" he turns his gaze on the roommates, who nod.

"Understood," they chorus.

"Yes, that one," Ghost Writer smirks, knowing otherwise, "So, Ph-enton, did you enjoy Christmas away from your parents?"

"The weeks leading up to it," he smiles tightly, "Of course, I have to listen to _the argument_ on Christmas _day_, but it was nice to be rid of it for the weeks leading up to it. I celebrated Hanukkah with Sam, just the two of us. Then we drove up to Amity Park for Christmas dinner with our families. Overall, it was nice."

"Good. No more destroyed Christmas poems then."

"Are you _ever_ going to let that go?"

"No."

"Thanks."

"Anyway, Jamie, what did you need to ask me about?" Jazz inquires.

"Well…"

Danny glances at his watch, "Jazz, can I leave them with you? I need to get ready and head out. I told Sam I'd leave at nine and be in Amity Park before noon."

"Yeah. Good to see you, little brother. I'll be there on Saturday," she gives him a hug, "I'm sure Sam could use some therapy, huh?"

"That's my job," he grins widely, his blue eyes sparking mischievously, "But then again, girls need to talk to one another every once in a while, huh?"

"Yeah," she smiles, "Have a safe trip, Danny."

"Will do. See you, Jazz!" he vanishes around a bookshelf, and Jazz sees a small flash of light, where he's gone ghost and phased invisibly away.

"So what is he studying in the Mortal Realms?" Ghost Writer questions, taking a sip of coffee.

"Well, he originally wanted to be an astronaut. While he hasn't lost his enthusiasm for space, he's turned to Criminal Justice instead."

"That would be his hero complex talking. What about his friend? The smart one."

"Tucker? He's getting an Engineering degree, but he's also taking Political Science and Business classes."

"And his girlfr—fiancee?"

"Marine Biology and Environmental Science," she smiles, "They're all growing up. It's weird."

"You're only a few years older," his eyebrows furrow.

"Yeah, but I still remember when Danny was learning to talk. It's just…weird to think that he's in college with an impending marriage."

He hums, his typing pausing while he scrutinizes a sentence, fixing it with an irritated scowl, "I suppose I can sympathize. It felt odd when my younger half-brother, Randy, spiraled into the Ghost Zone. He died an old man, so he looks older than me, but…" he frowns, unsure what to say, "…I imagine the emotion I felt when I saw him here is similar to the one you're experiencing right now."

"So…how did you die?" Jamie asks, plopping heavily into a chair.

Ghost Writer fumbles at his keyboard.

Jazz rockets to her feet and whirls on her roommate, "_Jamie!_" she hisses viciously, "You don't _ask that!_"

Jamie holds her hands up, her grey-green eyes wide, "Jeez, Jazz, sorry."

"_I'm_ not the one you need to apologize to!"

She leans around to look past Jazz, "Sorry, Mr. Ghost Writer."

"It's quite alright," he answers curtly, a hand fisting, "You didn't know better. A side-effect of our…tenuous relations with our mortal neighbors."

"I would think it was common sense," Angie comments, "But then again, Jamie tends to lack that."

"Tact, certainly," he agrees, his eyes locking to his screen.

"I'm sorry about this," Jazz apologizes, "I need to take them home anyway. Can I come back later to go over some of my paper with you?"

"Yes. I'll keep these books here on this table for you. I'll add anything I remember might have relevance in the meantime. Have a good day, Jasmine."

"Have a good day…Cecil," she whispers the last part, quietly enough that she knows only he, with his enhanced hearing, will hear.

He smiles softly at the sound of his name, and she leads her roommates away.

They emerge into the open air, Angie clinging to Jazz's arm. Jamie is dragged behind by a firm grip on her wrist.

"Jazz, I said I was sorry," she groans, "This hurts. Can you let up on the death-grip a little?"

"You need to think before you open your mouth!" she scolds, whipping out the silver portal gun, "he was pretty calm about it. If you'd asked Skulker, he'd threaten to put your pelt on his wall. Ember would probably kill you too. If her song is any indication, it wasn't pretty. You _don't_ ask how they died. You should be glad he took it so well. He's known for being a bit impulsive – he could've written you into your worst nightmare if he wanted to!"

They stride into the living room, the pillow and blanket used by Danny folded neatly on the couch with a small thank-you note resting on top.

"…it's sacred to them, in a way," Jazz continues softly, picking up the note, "the memory of their last breath. Whether the air was hot, cold…if there was air at all. The way it tasted. We don't remember being born, but ghosts…in a way, they do. They remember the moment they were separated from their mortal bodies, the moment when ideas, thoughts…their obsession…surrounded them."

"So do _you_ know how he died?" Angie whispers.

"No," she shakes her head, "He told me about how ghosts view the memories of their death, of their mortal life…I don't even remember how we got onto the topic. We got into a bit of a discussion from there, actually. It was about human rituals versus ghost rituals and then we moved on to the differences in culture. It was a really great discussion. For instance, the Christmas truce, or the way lairs are created. I mean, why do some of them have doors and some of them on islands? What dictates a ghosts lair? What creates the difference between ghosts like Skulker, Ember, and Ghost Writer from the more formless beings like ectopi? Do ghosts actually 'move on', or is every ghost since the beginning of time somewhere in the Infinite Realms? …listen to me ramble. It probably doesn't even make sense to you," she sighs, rubbing her forehead, "anyway, Jamie…"

"…yeah?"

"…what's wrong with the tub _now?!_"


	2. Well, Well

**A/N: Chapter #2! Yay! I hope you all enjoyed Chapter #1. :D Jazz is going to playing a bigger role this time, since she's been pretty cheated in the previous books. But, hey! She got almost an entire chapter centered around her! **

**I've also been getting positive reviews on her roommates. 21 reviews total from Chapter #1! (Then again, I DID give you guys a week to post them…)**

**I've responded in PMs to some of you, but I may post the basic of my responses for everyone to see. After all, someone might wonder about it later.**

**ShadowWarrior85: I have a hard time imagining Danny with a car. We see him ride Johnny's bike in "Livin' Large" and it was part of the original concept. Besides…do you really think I (or Sam) would pass up the chance to see Danny in black leather? (To the fangirls: …DANNY IN LEATHER PANTS! *Squeeing ensues* …I arrest my case.)**

**RandamWriter: …I haven't really decided. They might have a thing? Kind-of? They're friends, at least.**

**ShadowDragon357: Ah, yes, their Ship Name. I call TuckxVal Geeky Gray (or Cyber Hunter, but I think Geeky Gray is catchier. The "Official" name of "Hunter Silly" is just…dumb…) Ghost Writer x Jazz…the "Official List" has "Classic Cliché," but we've established we don't like that. To the other readers, here is our list of suggestions: Literary Analysis, Poetic Insight, Therapeutic Prose, Turquoise Scarf, Brainy Author, Therapeutic literature, Psychoanalytic poetry. Let's get them a decent name!**

**NinetalesSky: Maybe…I don't know, actually. I think things might get too busy…but we get…kind-of get wedding scenes all the way back in J.O.S….*sheepish smile***

**Avidreaded: Yeah, that's Jamie!**

**Anyhow…Read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

Chapter #2: Well, Well…

Danny smiles inside his helmet as the skyline of his hometown comes into view. It's a warm day, making it more than a little hot inside his thick leather jacket. He's missed Amity Park, with its lush parks, quirky residents, big-yet-small-town feel, the Nasty Burger…

_…__and the ghosts,_ he notes as one flies overhead, _I didn't exactly miss those._

He glides into the city limits, easing off of his highway speed to one more suitable for downtown Amity Park. No one turns his way – something he finds himself enjoying. No one notices that the son of the Fenton family is back. He's sure to be inundated with questions about his activities outside of Amity and his engagement.

His parent's faces smile down from billboards, along with some trivia about a few of the local ghosts. He snorts as he catches a smaller sign:

_Welcome to Amity Park, where you can get a Ghost Hunting License with your Driver's!_

"Yeah, that's Amity Park for you," he mutters aloud, leaning right down a smaller street.

Green light flashes overhead, and the ground shakes as he skids to a halt, nearly falling sideways to avoid the crater that has been bashed into the asphalt. The dust clears, and a coughing shape emerges.

"Ugh," she spits dirt from her mouth, "You are so _annoying_. I just started public high school this year, and I'm _loaded_ with homework already. You seriously have to cause problems _right now_?!"

"You sound like your cousin, Little Whelp," Skulker laughs from above.

"I'm _not_ going to flunk out after Maddie–"

"Mom," Danny corrects, removing his helmet.

"–Mom spent all that time to home-school me–" she stops mid-sentence, turning with wide eyes to face Danny.

"Hey, Dani!" He grins, "Having fun yet?"

"Danny!" She shouts, flying through the air to wrap her arms around his neck, "You're back!"

"Yeah," he gasps, "If you could avoid strangling me, though, I'd appreciate it."

"Oh, sorry," she smiles sheepishly, backing away to hover eye-level with him.

"Welcome home, Whelp," Skulker grins, "Ready to become my trophy yet?"

"My pelt isn't mine to give. You'd have to ask Sam for it," he replies dryly.

"So, Danny," Danielle smiles, "Do you think you could–"

"Nope, he's all yours," he shakes his head, "Sam's on the verge of a mental breakdown and needs me ASAP."

"_Please_, Danny?" she pleads, summoning her best puppy-dog eyes, "I already have a report to write, and I need to get back to school soon–" she looks at her watch, "–make that _now_ – so I can take a test. _Please_, Danny? I don't want to make it up. _You're_ the one who made me go in the first place! Do you want me to fail?!"

He sighs, _::…Sam?::_

_::Danny! Thank goodness! I'm going to _kill_ her!::_

_::…I'll be a few minutes longer. Danielle needs to get back to school.::_

She sighs, mirroring him, _::…yeah, okay. Make it fast.::_

_::Roger that,::_ he replies, "Dani, what did you tell the locals about my…absence?"

"I told them that you had some official ghost-zone business to take care of and it was none of their beeswax," she dismisses, "So…you'll take care of this?"

"Yeah, I'll take care of the ghost who has been patiently waiting for us to finish our conversation," he smirks.

"Great," she smiles, holding out a Fenton Thermos, "Here you go."

"I'm good," he laughs, "Just go. Maybe you won't miss too much of that test."

"Thanks, Danny!" she kisses his cheek and turns invisible, flying back towards Casper High.

"So, Whelp, are you ready to play?" Skulker grins.

He moves his bike aside and scans the area, ensuring it's empty. Once sure, he pulls his cold core to the forefront of his chest. The white rings wash over his body, and he lifts into the air.

"Yeah, Skulker, I'm ready," he smirks, "It's been almost a year, hasn't it?"

"Far too long, Halfa," he chuckles, "You'll be on my wall after today, though."

"I wouldn't count on it!"

-BREAK-

"You can stay for a few more minutes. I'll write you a pass for your next class."

"Thanks, Mr. Dartle," She smiles, finishing her equation.

He nods, his thick, black mustache twitching, and turns back to his novel. She feels awkward, sitting in a seat towards the back as other students filter in.

"Well, well, if it isn't Danielle Fenton," a girl nearby sneers, "I don't get why you can ditch class all the time without detention."

Danielle focuses on her next problem, biting her cheek, _because I'm busy saving your cosmetically-altered–_

"Ms. Fenton has been provided special permission by Principal Lancer," Mr. Dartle retorts, "For reasons that are strictly need-to-know, and none of us do."

"It's because she's a Fenton," the first girl's friend whispers.

Danielle finishes her final problem and strides quickly to the front of the class, her red backpack slung over her shoulder.

"Thank you," Mr. Dartle smiles, "You're much more diligent than your cousin. He would've fallen asleep within moments of entering class."

"Thanks," she mutters, taking his offered tardy pass, "Excuse me."

She slips into the hallway, walking as quickly as she can to her next class. She rounds a corner and slams head-first into someone else, her books scattering across the ground.

"S-sorry," someone stutters, "A-are you okay?"

"I should be asking you," she reaches for her textbooks.

"I'm fine," he sighs in relief, running a hand through his short, spiked, blond hair. She can see light brown at the roots, "Except…I can't find my glasses," he laughs.

"Here," she snatches the simple, rimless frames from the floor, "I think these are yours."

"Thanks," he smiles, and slips the lenses over his green eyes.

"You're welcome," she smiles, lifting herself from the floor, "But I really have to get to class. I have a late pass, but he'll wonder what took me so long if I'm any later."

"…c-can I ask you a question before you go?" he swallows thickly.

"Shoot," she replies.

"Do you know which way I need to go to find room four-eighty-three?" he asks, "I just transferred here, and I lost my map, so I'm hopelessly lost–really, just point me in the right direction real quick–"

"Look," she laughs, "You don't need to explain. Luckily for you, it's my next classroom. Come on," she extends a hand, "We need to get going. He's not very tolerant of tardiness."

"Thanks…" he takes her hand, surprised at her firm grip and ease with which she lifts him to his feet.

"Let's go," she laughs, turning down one final hallway and knocking on door four-eighty-three. Through the window in the door, she can see her teacher, Mr. Rivera, scowling.

"About time, Ms. Fenton," he growls.

"Sorry. I had a test to finish with Mr. Dartle."

"It took you a while to walk here from his room," he frowns.

"T-that's my fault," the young man coughs, "I just transferred here, so I was lost."

"Thankfully, we're in the same class," Danielle smiles, "Sorry again, Mr. Rivera."

"Well, knowing you, it's sure to happen again," he sighs, "Take your seat, Ms. Fenton. And you…" he turns to the blond, "I'm assuming you're Ashton Crossdale?"

"Y-yes, Sir," he swallows.

"You have the empty seat next to your partner-in-crime," Mr. Rivera motions to where Danielle sits, closest to the door, "Just try not to flirt too much."

The new student's cheeks flush slightly, and he quickly takes his seat. Danielle sends him a small, apologetic smile and pulls her notebook from her backpack. A small paper lands on her desk, and she opens it carefully. It's a heart, with "Danielle Fenton + Ashton Crossdale" written in the center.

_Guess we know why you're always skipping class, huh?_

More profanities litter the paper, and she crumples it into a ball, dropping it into her backpack.

Just another day of high school.

-BREAK-

Ashton glances around the lunchroom, spying a familiar face through the window. Danielle sits alone outside, eating her sandwich and reading her notes.

"Dude, I know you're new here, so let me give you some advice," an arm swings around his shoulder, almost startling him into dropping his tray. A fellow freshman – Connor, he remembers, from his Science class.

"W-What advice?"

"Stay away from Danielle Fenton," he advises.

"Why?"

"Well," he shifts, "It's weird. She's…popular and unpopular at the same time. Like, we all agree she's hot, and she's pretty awesome to have on your team for sports, but she's really…odd. Then again, she _is_ a Fenton, so–"

"The ghost hunters?" Ashton clarifies.

"Yeah," Connor nods, "But she just…vanishes during school. It ticks off the upperclassmen because she never gets in real trouble for it. Apparently, only Principal Lancer knows the reason."

"What's she actually like?" he inquires, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…" he hesitates, "She…she's really competitive, and absolutely fearless. Also…" he frowns, "I'm not sure if everybody notices, but she's always hurt. Like right now," he nods in her direction, "I'd say she's got at least a bruised rib, given the way she's holding herself."

"How would you know?"

"My brother's a boxer. He's taken a few good hits. I'm observant, too – I told you she's hot. Weird, and definitely the type of girl to admire at a distance, but still _really_ hot."

"So you've been watching her like a stalker," Ashton snorts, moving towards the doors, "Thanks for the advice, but I think I'm going to ignore it."

It's warm outside, and he places his tray down across from hers, "Y-you don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

"No," she replies, "but you should probably listen to Connor," she smirks, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously as he struggles for words, "It didn't take much to figure out what he was probably telling you. Come on, ask your questions."

He takes a bite of his chicken sandwich, "So…your parents are the local g-ghost-hunters?"

"_Adopted_ parents. They're actually my aunt and uncle…well, it's a major simplification of my relation to them, but…my parents died in a car accident, and they took me in."

"…do you miss them?"

"…what?" she blinks.

"D-do you miss your parents?" he asks quietly.

"I…" she scratches at the back of her neck, "I try not to focus on it, you know? I like Jack and Maddie, and I'm pretty close with my cousin, Danny."

"I see," he nods, "So…seeing as I'm new to Amity P-Park…is there anything I n-need to know?"

She laughs, "Well, I'm sure you know _something._ What do you already have down?"

"I know it's the m-most haunted city in the United States," he begins, "And I know it has a local s-superhero, Danny Phantom…" he thinks for a moment, "…that's about it."

She nods, "Yeah, that's the basics. Well, here's some more for you; Phantom is on a bit of a hiatus – something about having to take care of some official business in the Ghost Zone. He sent a relative of his to take care of things while he's away."

"G-ghosts have relatives?"

"Yeah," she takes a sip from her juice box, "The Box Ghost is married to The Lunch Lady and they recently had a kid – Box Lunch. The Ghost Writer has a half-brother named Randy. They have relationships just like us."

"So is this relative good?"

"Yeah," she smirks, "She's pretty good. She wishes she were as strong as Phantom, but…It'll come with some experience, probably."

"So what's her name?" he asks, "If you have Danny Phantom, what's her name?"

Something sparks in her eyes, and she hides a brief frown, "They call her…Destiny Phantom," the name seems to strangle itself on her tongue, "She–"

"Did you hear?" A girl giggles to a friend as they pass by, "Phantom's back!"

"A reporter got a picture of him, look!" the friend pulls something up on her phone, "He's pretty hot, for a guy who doesn't have a pulse."

A small smile pulls at Danielle's lips, "He's been known to take a break from whatever he's doing to visit occasionally. The women in town go crazy," she glances at her watch and begins to shovel her mashed potatoes into her mouth.

He looks at his own watch and follows suit, "So, uh…D-Danielle…"

"Dani," she answers, "Call me Dani."

"D-Dani…" he corrects between carrots.

"What?"

"…Can you tell me where to find the art rooms?"

-BREAK-

"There's a guy with a motorcycle out there."

"Really?"

"Yeah, a really cute one. He looks familiar though…"

Danielle finds herself beginning to jog towards the doors, her backpack slamming heavily against her spine. The sunlight outside hurts her eyes, and she swivels her gaze to where Danny leans against his bike, a large smile splitting his face.

"Danny!" she smiles, leaping down the steps, "You came to pick me up?"

"Yeah," he returns, "Mom and Dad were in the middle of a big project anyway, and Sam is sleeping off a migraine. Why not? Here, your helmet and jacket."

"Well, well, Daniel Fenton!" Mr. Lancer waves, moving closer, "How's school coming?"

"It's coming," Danny sighs, "One year's worth down, three to go. What about you? I hear you're the new principal of Casper High!"

"Ah, yes," Lancer coughs, "It helped to have a good relationship with our mayor."

"How is Mayor Gray doing?" Danny asks, "I hope it isn't stressing him to death."

"He knows how to run things," Lancer nods, "Besides, he has Burgess to help him out here and there, and he has Foley's number if he needs to know how something was organized. Speaking of Mr. Foley, when is good ol' Mayor Tuck coming?"

"Next week," Danny smiles, "He and Val are meeting in Elmerton and then coming up together."

"So…do you think you could be planning a double-wedding?" he laughs.

Danny groans, "_One_ is bad enough. Seriously, Pamela is going to kill me, if Sam doesn't kill her first. Besides, Tuck's commitment-phobic and Val doesn't have time for something like that. I imagine they'll finish college and have _careers_ before they decide whether to get hitched or not."

"Well, it'll be good to see them. I'll let you get going. You have a nice day, Danny, Danielle."

"Yeah, you too, _Principal_ Lancer," Danny smirks, "Come on, Dani."

She tightens the strap of the heavy helmet beneath her chin and climbs on behind him, wrapping her arms around his stomach. The wind pulls at her ponytail as they pull away from the school, and she can't help but smile.

_I love the bike,_ she thinks, _it's _way_ cooler than any car!_

Surprisingly, Danny turns in the opposite direction from Fentonworks, and she finds another reason to smile as the sign for the Nasty Burger comes into view. They coast into a parking spot and she dismounts, waiting for Danny to remove his helmet. He also removes his leather jacket, slinging it over a shoulder.

"I figured we could use some catch-up time that _isn't_ punctuated with explosions," he grins, "My treat."

"Awesome!" she shouts, "I'm totally go–"

"I'm paying for _one_ meal, not _five_," Danny snorts, "I'm not _that_ nice, you bottomless pit."

"Jerk," she pouts.

"No, I'm just an adult now – I have bills to pay!"

"That sucks," she retorts, "I'm still buying the biggest burger on the menu."

He sighs, "I hope I didn't eat as much as you. It should've run my parents out of house and home!"

"Danny," she smirks, "You were a teen _boy_. You probably ate _more_."

"I also had a free supplement to my diet after a couple years, though," he laughs, "Maybe you will too, eventually," he orders a cheeseburger, fries, and lemonade before moving aside for Danielle.

"I'll have the Super McNasty Meat Supreme," She smiles, "With large fries and a Coke," Danny is wincing to her left as he pulls his wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Not cool, Dani," he frowns, handing over the money, "_so_ not cool."

They go nearby booth to wait, and he scratches at a dusting of stubble on his jaw.

"Trying to go for a more rugged look, Danny?" she smirks.

"No," he chuckles, "I stayed the night at Jazz's apartment. I was in a hurry to leave, so I didn't take the time to shave. I haven't gotten around to it yet, between calming Sam down, trying to survive Pamela, talking with Jeremy, and almost getting blasted by one of the inventions in the basement at home."

"Welcome home," she laughs.

"Nothing quite says it like a ghost fight and an ecto-gun in the face," his smile fades, "And buying a fifteen-dollar meal for your cousin. I repeat: Not. Cool."

"Well, if I was still 'traipsing around the world', you wouldn't have to," she replies slyly, taking a sip of her soda.

"You'll thank me later," he growls, leaning back, "No more stealing apples from the Farmers' Market in Elmerton."

"H-how…?!" her lips work soundlessly, "Wait…Valerie told you?!"

"Yep. I'm assuming you pulled similar tricks around the world. You'll have to have an honest life now. How _awful_."

"Except that my birth certificate makes me a year younger than I am…biologically. I mean, _seriously_, Danny? I have to wait an extra year to get my license, and probably a job…"

"You needed that extra year," he snorts, "And while it sucked _a lot_, being a teen superhero with ghost powers has its advantages. Like _flying_, if you ever end up in a pinch without a drivers' license. Or a ridiculously cramped bus," he stands to get their order, returning a moment later.

She smiles, seeing her hamburger, heaped with meat and dripping with cheese.

"It's as big as your head," Danny mutters disbelievingly.

"And I'm going to eat _all_ of it," she grins.

He shakes his head and takes a bite of his burger, "Oh, have you heard? Johnny and Kitty are getting married. Want an invite?"

"Seriously?" she laughs, "About time!"

"I think I said the same thing…" he trails off, "And again, I'd almost forgotten that I meet with the Observants' Council later on this week."

"About what?" she asks, her eyes wide.

"Who knows," he sighs, "I'm not sure if you've noticed, but they _really_ don't like me. They tried to use the field trip incident as an excuse to banish me from the Infinite Realms forever. Then they wanted to lock me up after the pirates. Even _Clockwork_ is getting fed up with them. Normally he treats them with tired indifference, but last time, he got angry enough to _yell_ at them."

"At least you know he's on your side."

"Yeah," he sips at his lemonade, "He and I have the same goals – the most harmonious future possible. The problem is that it'll require some change, which The Observants aren't fond of."

"Changes?"

"I'm not sure if you've noticed, Dani," he deadpans, "but the Infinte Realms are pretty much in a state of anarchy right now, and it's not exactly beneficial for human-ghost relations. The problem is that no one wants to change that after having been under Pariah Dark's thumb. I don't blame them, but each lair is like a kingdom unto itself, and they all have different rules. The only one they agree on is the Christmas Truce. The Observants choose to act very selectively; they can't decide where to intervene or not. For the Mortal Realm, it's like having a neighboring field filled with a bunch of small houses. Some have fences, some have a line drawn on the ground, and others have nothing at all, but still expect you to know where the boundaries are. Some of the residents are friendly, while you worry that some of the others might kill you in your sleep and steal your stuff. You can't really tell who's who, so you want all of them gone. Really, they need to get together and–"

The ground shakes, and his head whips around to see where a building is collapsing nearby. Panic and fear flood his senses. Within seconds, he's out into the heat again. Police cars have already arrived, and he can hear ambulances in the distance.

"Sir, you can't–"

He pulls an I.D. from his pocket, "I'm a nationally-certified EMT responding on-scene," he explains.

"Fenton?" the officer grins, slapping him on the shoulder, "Welcome back, kiddo! Helping out with the wedding plans?"

"Yeah," he slips past, "Has everyone evacuated the building?"

"We're not sure."

"Keep up the perimeter," Danny strides towards a coughing group of survivors, "We don't need curious tourists getting caught in the rubble," he kneels next to them, "My name's Danny. Your names?"

"Sandra."

"Jason."

"Emily."

"Do you know what happened?" He asks, carefully escorting them closer to the perimeter.

"I don't know," Sandra coughs, "Everything just started shaking, and there was smoke…"

"Is anyone still inside? Did you see anyone that looked hurt?"

"I just assumed it was a nearby ghost attack, you know?" she continues, "But then the fire appeared _inside_, and–"

"I think a couple of boys from the newspaper are still inside," Jason coughs roughly, "But everyone else got out before we did."

"Did you see where they were?" Danny presses.

"Last place I saw them was the third floor," he shakes his head.

"Got it. Wait here, the ambulances are coming," he kneels next to the shaking and rambling Sandra, and touches her shoulder, "It's okay. You need to calm down," he whispers, "They'll be okay. So will you."

He pushes and pulls gently at her emotions, cutting away the excess fear and shoving it beneath relief. She relaxes a few seconds later, and he stands, turning back to the building.

"Hey! Danny, wait!" the officer shouts as he dashes inside, and swears, "Fenton's at it again!"

Danny dances around the falling bits of drywall. Dust coats his throat, making his tongue feel thick. He focuses his senses on the building, the world going dark around him. Small specks – some bigger than others – float around him. He finds the strongest – fear – and traces the little current backwards. His eyes remain closed as he maneuvers through the crumbling building, up to the second floor.

His eyes snap open, and he glares at the collapsed wall in his way. He doesn't dare push it – the people he's looking for are leaning against it on the other side.

"Hello?" he shouts, "Can you hear me? Are you okay?!"

"Yeah!" someone replies, "…you know, you sound kind of familiar…"

"My name is Danny Fenton!"

"Danny!" he laughs, "Dude, it's Alex, from school! Jaden's with me."

"Hey, Danny! How's it going?" Jaden asks weakly.

"Let's play catch-up _after_ we get you out of here."

"Yeah, I'm all for that," Alex answers, "But, dude, it's seriously good to hear your voice. We can't move this stuff – it's holding the ceiling above us, and Jaden's leg is trapped. Is someone coming with something that can get us out of here?"

Danny swears quietly to himself. He can feel the lower floor weakening, preparing to cave in – crushing them all in the process.

"I'm not sure we have time for that," he replies honestly.

Their fear spikes, "So…we're going to die?" Jaden manages to ask weakly.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he growls back, glancing back and seeing no one.

"Danny, if this place is going to collapse, you need to go," Alex chokes, "You're _engaged_, man."

"I'll be fine," he promises, "And so will you, understand? But I need you to promise something."

"…what?"

"Promise that you won't tell _anyone_ what you're about to see."

"Why?"

"Just promise!" Danny hisses, allowing his cold core to rise a little, "Like you all did that day in the hospital, after the field trip. That secret is _miniscule_ in comparison. Promise me, Alex, Jaden!"

"…I promise."

"…promise."

"I'm coming in," he phases through the wall, between the two. They scream and scuttle backward – or rather, Alex does. Jaden flinches, his trapped leg holding him in place.

"Dude…your eyes…" Alex whispers hoarsely, "They're…"

"Ectoplasmic green. Yeah, I know," Danny replies, "We need to get out of here."

"But…how…" Jaden hisses, "_Through_ the…?"

He allows his cold core to rise completely to the surface, and the rings travel over his form. Ink turns to snow, and snow turns to ink. Ice turns to acid.

All of the blood drains from their faces, curses falling from their lips.

"Do you understand now? Everything?" Danny asks, the floor wavering even beneath his light touch, "I'll tell you the story later – but we need to get out of here."

"Dude…this whole time…that trip into the Ghost Zone…"

"Look. We have to go. Sam's going to be _ticked_ that I told you. She's already worried that it's going to get out, and I just told a couple of _newsmen_. Can we have the whole 'crisis of the revelation' later?" He returns to Fenton and kneels beside Jaden.

"Can you move your toes at all?" he inquires.

"No," he grimaces, "I think it might be broken."

Danny grasps the chunk of ceiling – and a desk from above – that pins it. They turn intangible, and he pushes them down, to the floor below.

"Dude," Alex whispers, "_That_ is _seriously_ cool."

"Yeah, when you know how to control it," Danny snirks, "At first, it just made me drop an _unholy_ amount of beakers and _phased my pants off_ in front of the _whole school_."

"I remember that," Jaden smiles tightly, his eyes locked onto his twisted leg. He closes them, taking a long breath.

"Unfortunately, _everyone_ does," the rescuer grimaces, "We need to get out of here ASAP."

"That's not going to be very pleasant for me, is it?" Jaden whimpers.

"No," Alex answers honestly.

A curse dances on his lips, "Well…we should get this over with."

"Yeah, we should," Danny replies, pulling one of his arms over his shoulder, "But I'll do what I can to reduce the pain."

"What you can…" he falls silent.

"We need to go, Alex," Danny mutters tightly, "I can't do this for long. Put your hand on my shoulder."

He keeps a mental hand on the throbbing, red stream that is Jaden's pain. It flows into him, pulsing from his calf up. He summons his intangibility, allowing it to spread to the two men in contact with him. They shuffle through the rubble, and Danny phases them down to the first floor and they limp into the sunlight. EMTs and Firemen jog over, helping Jaden onto a gurney. Danny slowly relaxes his grip on Jaden's pain, sweat pouring from his forehead.

"Remember," Danny turns to Alex, "Not a _word_."

"Y-yeah," Alex nods, "I want to know the whole story someday, Danny."

"I'll tell you someday – provided you tell no one else."

"You got it," he grins, hopping into the ambulance with his best friend.

"Are you sure you're alright?" One of the technicians on board inquires.

"Yeah," Danny dismisses, "Just dirty. Get them out of here, huh?"

The EMT nods and the doors close. The officer from before jogs up as the ambulance pulls away. He curses.

"Fenton, you can't just rush into crumbling buildings," he scolds, "One of these days, you won't come out!"

"Yeah, and there'll come a day for anyone where they won't see the next sunrise. I just can't stand aside and let that moment come for someone else."

The officer's eyebrows scrunch together, "That…"

Danny laughs, running a hand through his hair, "Wow. _That_ was a little dark, wasn't it? Don't think too hard on it."

He still watches him with narrowed eyes, "Yeah. You're _positive_ that you're okay?"

"Totally," he smiles, "My cousin's probably wondering where I am. Can I…" he motions at the Nasty Burger.

The policeman sighs and nods, waving a dismissive hand, "Yeah, go. If I catch you pulling a stunt like that again–"

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, brushing past. Phantom pain still pulses in his leg, and it takes some effort to avoid limping back towards the Nasty Burger. Danielle sits outside, leaning against his bike. She scans him quickly, noticing his shadowed eyes. His shirt is soaked in sweat and covered in dust.

"What happened to _you_?" she snorts.

"It's a long story," he sighs, "I'm guessing you weren't determined enough to do some of your homework while I was…occupied?"

"Nope."

"I thought not. Let's go. I need a shower."

**A/N: End of Chapter #2! **

**Danielle doesn't like being called "Destiny Phantom." Danny figured that even the ever-blind Amity Park would piece things together is Danny Fenton had a cousin named Danielle who happened to show up at the same time as Danielle Phantom while Danny left Amity for college and Phantom left at the same time…yeah, he figured they wouldn't be THAT dumb. I'm explaining this here because I'm not sure where/if I can fit that explanation into the story.**

**Ashton Crossdale. He has a bit of a stutter, especially around girls or people of authority. You'll notice that it went away once he relaxed and started have a conversation with Dani. It showed back up after the lull in their conversation and because he had to ask her something. About his hair…look up "Matt Ryan Constantine" and you'll probably have a good idea. It looks pretty blond, but from some angles, you can see a darker brown beneath.**

**I think that Danny and Danielle have gotten a bit more comfortable with each other, and act a little more like siblings. (Though Danny still dotes on her more than most brothers…)**

**So how many of you knew it was Alex and Jaden when someone mentioned the "boys from the newspaper"? Is Crystal (still?) dating Alex? What happened to the building?**

**Sam next chapter!**


	3. Matricide

**A/N: So…yeah, I know this is quite a bit shorter than the other two, but…I'm updating? Besides, I kind-of wanted this to be a Sam-focused chapter. I'm sorry….please don't hate me for the shortness…Thanksgiving is coming up, and the place where I work is busiest that day, so I'm getting exhausted trying to answer the phone, take care of the guests in line, and then the phone will be ringing with another call while I'm talking with one…Never be crappy to the cashiers, people. Sometimes, we're a one-man army behind there! (Not only that, but our only purpose is to take your cash and put it in the system. We have no control or influence over other things in the store…)**

**Anyway, some review answering!**

**xXxDisillusionsxXx: I'm glad you like those three. :D Thank you!**

**Guest: PLEASE choose a nickname when you review. I mean this as politely as possible, but I have more than one "Guest", and picking a nickname or signing something makes it easier for me to communicate with you. I can't PM guests. I have to talk to you through A/Ns. Now for my response to the guest review with the P.S. about Dan. (See? Choosing a signature would make this SO much easier…) I may include Dan, I may not. You see, interesting thing about Dan from TUE is that he CANNOT exist without Plasmius. Anyway, thanks for your review!**

**GeekyZelda: Ashton will get a little more developed in the future. It's just that his interactions are very light in emotion because he's nervous and trying to make small-talk. It'll get better. :D **

**Hellbreaker: No one who knows Dani likes the "Destiny" part. It makes ****_everyone_**** grimace.**

Chapter #3: Matricide

"What did I _tell you_?!"

"Things that look good in your head don't necessarily translate well into real life!"

"Changing a little bit of the basic tailoring is one thing," Sam growls, "But the colors are staying!"

"_Black_ for a wedding?!" Pamela screeches, "Have you _lost your mind?!_"

"Black, silver, and green," Sam answers, "It's the color scheme we chose!"

"As if _Daniel_ cares," the mother huffs, "The _men_ never _really_ care about the ceremony. They only care about what comes _afterward_!"

"I don't think that's relevant in this case," she retorts, "Considering the fact that we've been sharing a bed for a year and are still virgins!"

"Thank goodness," Jeremy mutters somewhere in the corner of the room.

"I can't believe that this whole time, you've been living in that tiny apartment…" Pamela mutters angrily, "The school included a dorm room with your scholarship…do you have _any_ idea what it was like, trying to contact you? We tried calling the dorm, and they told us that you never moved in. Your phone was off, you didn't answer our e-mails…"

"_Please_," Sam snorts, "_Dad_ had a pretty good idea the moment he heard that bit of news. _He_ wasn't panicking!"

Jeremy chokes on his coffee, almost spilling it on his work documents. Pamela's icy glare swivels to him, and he clears his throat. _::Sammy, please try to avoid pulling her attention to me right now…::_

"Oh, exposed by the…the…the telepath?" she hisses at her husband.

"Are you _still_ freaking out over that?!" Sam sighs, "You learned about that _over a year ago!_"

"It's not something I should have to get used to! This wouldn't have happened if _you_," she points at Jeremy, "hadn't moved to this place!"

"Oh, don't even pretend you don't like Amity Park," Sam frowns, placing herself between the accusatory finger and her father, "You like that it's not as busy as New York – the gossip is better – and a lot of the families are wealthy. Not many of the kids here are downright thugs. Bullies, maybe, but not thugs."

"I'm not sure if those balance out…other things…" _::Ghosts, ghost _hybrids_, for goodness' sake!::_

"Danny is a _hero_, Mom!" she shouts, "Not liking him because he's a ghost hybrid would be like telling me I can't marry a man in a wheelchair! You're discriminating against him for _being in an accident_!" _Well…it was an accident the first time, anyway…_

"Those are two entirely different things," Pamela frowns, "And that's not why I dislike him."

"It is," Sam frowns, "and you _still_ think I'm marrying him to tick you off. If I _really_ wanted to tick you off, I'd have run off with a hobo! Or a biker ten years older than I am with his sleeves tattooed on!"

"Look on the bright side, Pam," Jeremy mutters, "Danny doesn't have any tattoos."

"Well…" Sam shifts, "I wouldn't say he's _completely _free of ink…"

Jeremy raises an eyebrow at her sheepish grin.

"He has a NASA tat on his left shoulder-blade. The constellations for Aquarius and Leo are behind it," she explains with a smile, "The constellations were my idea."

"Ah," Jeremy returns to his files, "astrology?"

"Sun in Aquarius, Moon in Leo," she smiles, "It suits him."

_::I'm surprised you didn't get a matching one,::_ he thinks, hoping his daughter is paying attention.

_I do,_ she wants to reply, _somewhat. _She thinks to the tattoo on her right shoulder-blade. A skull rests in the center of a spider-web, entangled in thorny roses. The constellations for Gemini and Aquarius are in the web.

"I didn't know you were into that crap," Pamela frowns.

"It's interesting," Sam shrugs, "I wouldn't say the stars exactly shape our destiny, but it's fun to know about."

The mother sighs, and looks back at the large sampling of dresses. Sam had seen them and immediately vetoed all.

Suddenly, Sam's face brightens, "Danny…" she breathes, "He's back in range!" She listens to something and sighs.

"What's up?" Jeremy inquires.

"Danny's helping out Danielle with some ghost trouble real quick. I doubt it'll take long. In fact…" she smiles rushing down the stairs. She flops to the couch, borrowing the remote from Ida, who doesn't protest as the young woman flips to the local news station.

_"__Welcome to Ghost Watch!"_ the anchorman grins, _"Ladies and Gentlemen, do we have a surprise for you! While the fight _started_ between Skulker and Destiny–"_

Sam winces, "Sorry, Danielle. It was for your own good…"

_"__It seems that an old friend has come to end it. Good people of Amity Park, it seems that Phantom's come to visit!"_ he moves aside, and the camera zooms in on the shapes fighting above.

Danny smiles, his green eyes bright. He dodges a missile and a tendril of ice wraps around it, preventing the explosion. He kicks Skulker firmly in the head, loosening the hinges. With that, he forms an icy sword and slices it into the gap between Skulker's head and shoulders. With a quick twist of his wrist, the skeletal head is pried loose.

The body begins to fall, only to be caught with a green glow. It's lifted back up to the air as Danny's other hand glows, and claws form at his fingertips. They tear through the fabric between worlds and he throws Skulker, the armor, and the ice-encased missile through the portal. He dusts off his hands, finished, and vanishes from sight.

Sam smiles at the screen, "And he's _all mine_."

Ida laughs, "You've found a good one, Bubbeleh."

"I know," she grins dreamily.

_::On my way, Sam,::_ Danny grins in her mind, _::I just have to slip away with my bike without the reporters noticing…::_

_::Good luck with that,::_ she smirks.

As though on cue, the anchorman is rushing to another street, _"Well, look who's back in Amity!"_ he slings an arm around Danny's shoulders, as the young man tries to wheel his bike discreetly away.

_"__Hello,"_ Danny shifts, _"I…um…I'm kind of in a hurry…?"_

_"__You're getting married to Samantha Manson, right?"_ he presses, _"I remember that the engagement was pretty hot news."_

_ "__Lance, we're still on Ghost Watch–"_ a cameraman begins to argue, but he's interrupted by a dismissive wave.

_"__He's a Fenton. News about him counts, right?"_

_"__I'm not sure about that…"_

Sam watches, stifling her laughter, as the cameraman continues to argue with his superior. Danny slowly moves away in the background – until he gives the cameraman a subtle smile and thumbs-up, mouthing a 'thank you'. The man returns the thumbs-up, unseen by his partner.

Out of the camera's frame, she can hear his motorcycle start up, and the reporter's head whips around to the sound.

_"__Hey!"_

The black bike slices through the screen, vanishing up the street. Lance runs after him for nearly a block before raising the microphone to his lips resignedly.

_"__Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, that's all for Ghost Watch today. Lance Thunder…reporting out."_

-BREAK-

Danny pulls his motorcycle into the driveway and dismounts as quickly as he can. About three minutes ago, Sam's excitement and elation had been reduced to fury and murderous intent – if she killed Pamela, he'd have to help her hide the evidence.

He doesn't even knock, simply gliding through the door – removing his boots, because Pamela would have a fit if he so much as _looked_ at her carpet with them – and stumbling up the stairs.

"I don't give a–" He can hear scream through the door, "–About what's traditional!"

He sweeps the door open, "Pushing the fiddler off of the roof?" he grins, throwing his arms around her shoulders and pecking her cheek. She relaxes a bit, leaning back against his chest.

"It's great to see you, Danny," she grins.

"Hello, Daniel," Pamela frowns icily, "You should've knocked. It's bad luck for the groom to see the dress before the wedding."

His eyes scan the room, filled with white and cream dresses, "Well, none of these are _the_ dress, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"How have you been, Danny?" Jeremy asks from his place in the corner of the room, "Want to sit down?"

"Only if Sam comes with," he grins, sweeping her from her feet. She yelps in surprise, and he sits in a chair opposite Jeremy, with Sam in his lap.

"You dork," she laughs, pressing her lips to his.

"_Your_ dork," he clarifies.

Jeremy hides a smile behind his cup, "Pamela, maybe you should go rest. Have you eaten?"

She riles before suddenly calming, "No…if you'll excuse me, then."

The trio watches her leave, and Jeremy looses a long breath, "I figured she'd forgotten to eat. Sammykins…" he places his drink on the desk, "I know she's not listening. I know she's infuriating. Even though she disapproves of your marriage, she's still throwing all of her energy into the planning. Try to be patient with her?"

"I'll try," she answers sulkily.

"And while I say she disapproves of the match…" he begins, "It isn't about him, it's about her pride. She was wrong, and she hates it. She'll never admit it. I think she's…well, I would say _approving, _but…anyway, I don't think she actually hates you, Danny. She's just proud, stubborn, and…well, you know why high-school sweethearts hit such a cord with her."

"Her roommate," Sam whispers, "the one who committed suicide."

He nods, "It's one of the only times I've seen your mother cry. I could probably count them on my hands, and we've known each other for twenty-five years."

They sit in silence for a moment, before Jeremy clears his throat.

"So, Danny, what have you been up to?"

"Well, I'm working towards my degree in Criminal Justice," he begins.

"Work?"

"I work as an EMT," he answers, "but I bartend in the evenings for extra cash."

"I have to fight off the flirty patrons," Sam growls, "And my fellow waitresses don't seem to understand that he's _mine_."

"You aren't the only one who has to fight the drunks," Danny retorts, "I considered freezing the hand of that guy that decided it would be a good idea to slap your–"

"You should've seen the look on his face!" she laughs, "He felt this _chill_ wash over the room, and turned to see _you_ behind the bar, glaring at him. He dropped _two-hundred_ on a eighty-dollar tab and scurried out as quickly as he could!"

"Good riddance," Jeremy frowns.

"At least the drunks tip well," she shrugs, "They'll _easily_ run a tab over a hundred. By the time they're done, they don't have enough of their wits to work out a twenty-percent tip and usually just slap down a ton of cash and leave."

"They still need to respect boundaries," Danny growls, green swirling momentarily in his eyes. Red flickers at the edges.

Sam reaches up to pat his cheek, "There, there," she coos.

He bows his head to place his lips on hers, his bangs obscuring his eyes from Jeremy's view. They burn red.

"You're _mine_, you know," he rumbles quietly.

"I know," she smiles, pressing her lips to his again.

"Alright, I've eaten," Pamela declares, storming into the room, "Now, we're going to work out the dresses today _even if it kills me!_"

They sigh, Danny's eyes returning to blue, "Well, back to the battlefield?"

"And there might be a casualty."

**A/N: We can go back to shorter chapters/more frequent updates, if you want. I'll see what the rest of you say. Just a quick note about something I'm not sure I'll have time to explain:**

**Now, we all know that Danny's obsession is "Heroism", right? I've established in the other books that the obsession has to be fed, but not too much. Too much either way could warp him like Vlad. The problem with Danny moving from Amity is a lack of ghosts to fight and lives to save. Therefore, he and Sam came up with a solution – Danny became an EMT. However, EMTs don't always get the best pay (I think it depends on the county or state…there isn't an international standard of pay…). Where I lived, they got $2 an hour ON CALL (being within 5 mins. Of the garage and listening to the radio) and then once something came in, they'd get normal minimum wage for the duration. They worked 12-hour shifts. I imagine Danny is on call for days he doesn't have class 6AM-6PM and then bartends in the evenings. Sam works as a waitress at the same place. I think I'll write a little oneshot about their college life.**

**That reminds me: To those of you who don't know, I've started a oneshot collection! Amity One-Shots! Just random ideas and probably some supplemental material like what I was talking about above.**


	4. Seven Days

**A/N: Three chapters and 56 reviews! YAY! Let's keep up the pace, people. I'm planning on going to more updates = shorter chapters. That worked best for all of us, didn't it? Anyway, some answers to reviews:**

**Cassondreya: Your first explanation was correct. Impurity was part of Danny originally. As much as Freud was crazy (in my opinion), you could say that Impurity was the Id. Really the simplest way to put it. Impurity wasn't Danny's "Dark Side", but rather…that little bit of selfishness, possessiveness, impureness that exists in all of us as human beings. When Danny died, he was split off from Humanity and Spirit. This created a bit of a fracture, so he is now a separate consciousness…but not completely separated. He is Danny as much as Danny is…Sorry, I'm not really sure how to explain it. I've done my best. As for an anomaly…Yes and no?**

**Lera-Sing: Welcome! Glad you've enjoyed everything! Be sure to check out my other stories, "The Funeral Singer" and "Amity One-Shots"!**

**Steph1117: She doesn't want to ruin her tips, and she's found that ignoring them is best. If she snaps at them, they do it more. ("You're just playing hard to get!" "Look at this one, she's spunky!" etc.) She just stays disinterested. It's kind of like how younger siblings will annoy the crap out of you for fun. If you yell at them and react, they'll keep doing it. If you ignore them, they'll eventually stop. Danny, on the other hand, believes that a broken jaw would be ****_wonderful_**** motivation for them to keep their hands to themselves.**

**jim89: Yeah, it varies by state and probably county, and I'm too lazy to look up the average EMT wages for Minnesota. Yeah, Sam as a waitress…It's one of the most common part-time jobs for college students here in the U.S., so…she's not exactly suited to being a receptionist, and most importantly, Sean doesn't have a strict dress-code for his employees. She can still dye her hair, paint her nails, wear dark lipstick, etc. As for the money: Bingo, right on the head! Which actually answers the question from KaLeighSamantha…**

**KaLeighSamantha: Yes, she has a trust fund. But she's not the type to use it unless she really has to. It'd give her mother something to wave over her head. "I'm paid for your education, so why aren't you _?! So ungrateful!" **

**Avidreaded: To other readers, I totally am going to do this sometime. A humorous fic about Sam killing Pam and Danny helping her hide the evidence? YES PLEASE! I'm gonna do it. Not sure when, but I will!**

**The Talent: I will be writing a one-shot about Pamela finding out about the Tat. Probably next. Maybe even today.**

Chapter #4: Seven Days

"That…that can't be right," Detective Morrison throws a photograph to the table, "It's just…"

"This _is_ Amity Park," his partner, Jeanne Stone, snorts.

"Who is it from? Who is it _for?_"

Stone picks up the photograph and takes a sip of her coffee. It's a photo of a piece of rubble from the building collapse yesterday, the one near the Nasty Burger. Forensics had placed it at the fourth floor, where a fire had broken out. She drops the photo and moves to a witness statement.

_The ground began to shake, and I saw a flash of light outside the windows. Then there was a bright flash, and a fire appeared in the center of the room. It was just…hovering there. There wasn't even any smoke. I thought I was hallucinating until I realized everyone else had gone silent, and were staring at it too. Then it swooped over to the back wall and exploded. It began to smoke and sizzle. Some papers caught on fire, and the building began to shake again. We ran out the doors as quickly as possible._

"It wasn't exactly a normal fire, either," she frowns, looking back at the photo, "It's obvious that _someone_ caused it."

"Or some_thing_, depending on how you view ghosts," Morrison massages his temples.

"What ghost could have done _this_?"

"We'll have to bring the Fentons in on this," he sighs, "If anyone knows anything, it'll be them."

"Yeah," she agrees, skimming through more reports. Her eyes keep flicking back to the photo, but she drags them back to the reports. Her eyes lock on one name, "Morrison…"

"What?" he answers, scrolling _very slowly_ through his contacts.

"Make sure they bring Danny with them," she slides the report across the table, "According to several of our witnesses, Danny Fenton was a first responder on the scene."

He picks it up, a frown forming on his face, "Isn't he engaged?"

"To Samantha Manson," she nods.

"And he's certified as an _EMT_. He has no business running into collapsing buildings!"

"From what I hear, it's not exactly the first time," she raises an eyebrow, "I hear he has a…talent…for showing up in places he shouldn't be."

"And saving lives in the process. He always vanishes before anyone can pull him into an ambulance or aside for questioning. He got away with it in the past because he and Mayor Foley are best friends, but maybe Mayor Gray will crack down on him a bit."

"Don't count on it," she shakes her head, "I think they're pretty chummy too. Father of his best friend's girlfriend."

He snorts, "Well, I'll call the Fentons and tell them to bring Danny with 'em. We need to see if they can tell us anything about that," he motions to the photo.

Stone's eyes move to the photograph once again. A large slab from the fourth floor sits on the ground. Black lettering is scorched into its surface.

_7 Days_

-BREAK-

"I just…I don't know what to think about it, Crystal."

_You don't have to think about it. Just accept it._

"It's just…" Alex shakes his head, staring down at the screen of his phone, where his girlfriend texts her responses, "Danny is…" he lifts his head, "You don't seem too surprised."

_I've suspected he has something to do with Phantom for a while…_ She replies.

He waits silently, giving her time to type.

_He'd disappear, Phantom would appear fighting somewhere. They don't look dissimilar either. For a while, I thought maybe Phantom was haunting him, but there were some comments on the field trip that really made it click. I wouldn't say I _knew_, but I had my suspicions._

"Comments?" Alex's forehead wrinkles, "Like what?"

_When we were at Pandora's, Paulina wondered about what kind of nail polish Phantom would like, remember?_

"Yeah, Pandora got this look on her face…" he inhales deeply, "Holy…she looked at Sam and commented that he likes black or purple…Sam's colors of choice."

_It explains why Sam always got so annoyed whenever Paulina started gushing about Phantom. She was gushing about _Danny_._

"You two _seriously_ just need to learn sign language," Jaden moans from his hospital bed, "I hate hearing only half of this conversation. I need to either hear _all_ of it, or _none_ of it."

_I'm still learning,_ Alex signs with a smirk, knowing his friend won't understand.

"What did you say?"

"I told you that I'm still learning," he replies, "How are you feeling, Jay?"

"Not awful," he answers, "But not fantastic either. Some sleep helped."

"They kept you overnight for observation, but I'm told we'll be able to go home today."

"Awesome," he smiles.

_I'm making pumpkin chili tonight,_ Crystal texts to the two boys.

"Yes!" Jaden pumps a fist into the air, "Crystal's cooking!" He suddenly sobers, his eyes wide, "Just don't let him help."

"Hey!" Alex yelps reproachfully, "I'm not _that_ bad!"

_Alex, Babe, your idea of cooking is Top Ramen, _Crystal pats his knee, _Which you once managed to _burn._ Jaden can at least cook spaghetti._

"I could cook more than that, if I wanted too," Jaden defends, "I just…"

_You're just too lazy and impatient._

"…yeah, that's about right."

They all begin to laugh – Alex listens carefully to Crystal's laugh, enjoying one of the few times he hears his girlfriend's voice. He takes her soft hand in his and squeezes gently.

"Am I interrupting something?"

The laughter halts, and they turn slowly to a corner of the room, where Danny Fenton leans against the wall, his green eyes fading to blue.

"…when did you get in here?"

"Just a second ago," Danny shrugs, "Phased through the wall. There aren't any cameras in the rooms of this wing."

"What about ghost tech?" Jaden asks.

"Adjusted for my ecto-signature," Danny dismisses, "My parents do frequent 'maintenance' of all ghost-tech in town, remember? They make sure it's up-to-date with me."

"Dude, I have to say, hearing you say things like 'phased through the wall' so casually is kind of…surreal," Alex shakes his head, "So…Crystal knows. I'm not gonna keep that from her, seeing as she's the third member of our little household."

_I always suspected,_ she types, showing Danny the screen.

"Sam suspected your suspicions," Danny smirks, "Being a telepath and all."

"Being a _what_?!" Alex coughs.

"Long story," Danny laughs, flicking a hand. A chair from across the room is surrounded with a green glow, and scoots itself to seat him by the others, "But I'll answer any questions you have. That was our deal, wasn't it?"

"…So…you're a ghost?" Jaden shifts uncomfortably.

"Half," Danny corrects, "The other ghosts call me a 'halfa'."

"Your parents are both…normal people, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Danny laughs, "Being a halfa isn't exactly…genetic."

"So how…?"

"Around the beginning of Freshman year, my parents left the house. Sam and Tucker convinced me to give them a tour of the lab. My parents had recently finished the Ghost Portal, but…it didn't work. It was still a great, big, hole in the wall full of nothing more than wiring. Sam talked me into going inside, and when I did…I tripped or hit a button on the wall or…something. Long story short, I got zapped with the entire ghost zone. According to Sam, I stumbled out of the portal as Phantom, passed out, phased through her hands, and turned back into Fenton. It's like…surviving normally fatal amounts of radiation. Not recommended, no matter how desperately you want to be a superhero. Getting electrocuted to death isn't pleasant – trust me. Besides, it has a _lot_ of downsides."

"Like what?"

"I have to avoid hospitals as much as possible, because my pulse, temperature, and every other reading is abnormal. Like…I should be dead, abnormal. Then there was the duration of time when I couldn't control my powers – we already went over that. Oh, and the whole 'feeding on emotions' thing can creep people out–"

"Woah, wait," Alex waves his hand, "_Feeding on emotions_?!"

"Yeah," Danny scratches at the back of his neck, "I didn't use to, but my ghost side became powerful enough that my own emotions alone couldn't sustain it, so I have to supplement my diet a bit. It helps me heal faster too. Besides, I used a similar method to help Jaden yesterday."

"The pain from my leg…"

"To feed on emotions, I have to be able to see them, so I–"

_What do emotions look like?_

He takes a deep breath, "In the Infinite Realms, emotions are carried by miasma, so they're like colorful dust particles. Different colors for different emotions. Here in the Mortal Realms, they're like thin threads of color. It's hard to explain. I don't see them unless I really concentrate on it though. Yesterday was rough on me. You see, Jaden, I found the thread connected to you that was the pain, and then I cut off the 'circulation', if you will. However, that sent it through me instead of you. My leg still throbs if I think about it. Let's not do that again if we don't have to, hm?"

"I don't want it either," he laughs shakily.

"So your parents didn't know about it until the field trip?" Alex inquires, "I mean, before that, they were chasing Phantom around like crazy…"

"Nope. They had no clue. It was…quite the adjustment for my mom. She's totally okay now, which is good, because now I have a looming mother-in-law-to-be and she _really_ doesn't approve of the whole 'halfa' deal…"

"Yeah. I imagine," Alex laughs, "The Mansons are pretty famous for their desire to be completely 'normal',"

"And _that_ definitely doesn't fit," Jaden finishes.

"No," Danny laughs, "No it doesn't."

**A/N: So, some notes on Crystal that I'm not sure I'll get around to explaining in-story. Crystals parents are both deaf, and so is her older sister. Crystal and her younger brother can hear, however. They're used to the quiet, and not having to use their voices. This is part of why she doesn't talk. I also think she doesn't like her voice. Most importantly, she doesn't feel like it. Oh, she could talk if she felt like it, but she really doesn't. Her baby brother is a chatterbox with his friends at school.**

**Crystal is working as an interpreter, and teaching Alex sign language. She, Alex, and Jaden all share an apartment, so some people wonder if they have a bit of a OT3 thing going on…Alex is definitely straight, and so is Crystal…I think Jaden is too, but may be willing to experiment. I don't think anyone besides Alex and Crystal are romantic with each other, but I imagine that those three will always be together. Alex and Jaden are heterosexual life partners, after all. Eh, I'll just leave their relationships up to interpretation.**


	5. Terrifying

**A/N: It's been a VERY long week…My schedule got kind of weird…anyway, I should be updating a fair bit next week, as I have several days off – I have to get my wisdom teeth removed…let's just hope that the pain meds don't put me so out of it that I can't write.**

**Steph117: I'm glad you view my work so highly. :D Continue to enjoy!**

**ShadowWarrior85: *Sniff* I'm so touched… *Sniff***

**KaLeighSamantha: Yes, I'm referring to purple streaks.**

**Oh, and I uploaded a sketch (you can find the link on my profile) of Dani, Ashton, and Connor. Check it out!**

Chapter #5: Terrifying

"Fenton, huh?" Connor mutters as he finishes an equation on his worksheet, "Danielle's cousin? He was in the news yesterday – at the end of Ghost Watch. It actually happened before school let out, but they aired it again around dinnertime, in the official ghost-fighting slot."

"I saw it. He seemed pretty eager to get out of there," Ashton comments.

"Yeah, that's the funny thing about Danny. He does things that put him in the spotlight and then runs away from it. Yesterday, after school, there's a rumor that he pulled two guys from the office building that collapsed near the Nasty Burger."

"…Nasty Burger?" Ashton's brow furrows.

"Dude, you haven't been there yet?!"

"I'm not sure I _want_ to."

"It's the biggest hangout of the town!" He assures.

"What's with the name?"

"It's an old joke," Connor laughs, "It used to be 'Tasty Burger', but someone scribbled out the 'T' and put an 'N' over it. They kept fixing it, but the vandals kept at it. Finally, they got a new sign that said 'Nasty Burger' on it, as a joke, but the vandalism stopped, so it stuck around. Now it's one of the most popular hang-outs in Amity Park. You seriously can't say you live in Amity Park until you've gone to Nasty Burger."

"I'll have to add it to the list, right under 'See first live ghost-fight,'" Ashton remarks dryly. It's odd – he never feels nervous around Connor. His stutter hasn't appeared – around him, anyway – since their initial meeting.

_On second thought,_ he thinks, _it's not that odd. He ticked me off._

He'd been furious, realizing that no one actually _knew_ Dani. They all watched her from a distance, equal parts admiring, laughing, and scorning. He'd instantly decided to defy them and sit with her – which he plans to repeat today.

"Well, it's been a while since there's been one near school. So you may not–"

He's interrupted by a flashing green siren, and sighs, "Well, you're in luck. Kind-of."

_"__All students please make your way to the cafeteria or gym. I repeat. All students please move to the cafeteria or gym in an orderly manner."_

"What…?"

"Ghost alarm," Connor laughs, looking at the transfer student's stunned expression, "It means that there's a fight on or near school grounds. That was Principal Lancer on the P.A. system."

"Why the cafeteria or gym?" Ashton follows the lead of his fellow students, calmly packing his papers and swinging his backpack over one shoulder before lining up at the door.

"There are ghost shields installed there. The structure is reinforced there too."

"Do you think it'll be Danny or Destiny?" One girl asks her friend, "Destiny's cool, but Danny's pretty hot for a ghost."

"It's probably Destiny. Danny doesn't show up hardly ever anymore. For all we know, he could've only been in town yesterday."

They stroll down the hallway, to the cafeteria. His eyes flick continually towards the windows, eagerly waiting to see his first live ghost fight. He'd seen a ghost for the first time today – a short, rotund man in overalls. His English teacher swatted it away without a glance. It started to protest, but something had silenced it.

He'd almost _swear_ that Danielle had woken up from a nap and glared at it in that moment.

"Speaking of Dani…" he mutters to himself, his eyes scanning the room, "…maybe she's in the gym?"

Ten minutes later, the green glow of the ghost shield fades, and each class is allowed to return to normal.

"Well, you live here now," Connor claps his back, "You'll have _plenty _of chances, trust me."

"Yeah," he nods, "I guess I will."

-BREAK-

"You should've seen the look on Danny's face," Dani grins widely, "It was this _awesome_ mix of horror and amazement. I mean, he's seen _weird_ stuff, and I mean _weird_, but the burger absolutely horrified him!"

"J-just how big was this thing?" Ashton stutters in bewilderment.

"Bigger than her head," someone snorts. Their heads turn, revealing Danny Fenton. He jogs to the table, a notebook clutched in a gloved hand, "You forgot your math homework," he explains, handing it to his cousin.

"Oh my gosh!" she shrieks, "_Thanks_, Danny. I would be _so_ dead!"

"I figured. Get a little distracted?"

"Yeah," she laughs, "Oh, Danny, this is Ashton Crossdale. He just transferred here."

"N-nice to meet you."

"Ashton, this is my cousin, Danny. He's more like an older brother to me, really."

"Welcome to Amity," Danny smiles, "Where you can get a ghost-hunting license with your driver's! The ghosts have calmed down a bit, though. Most of them are just bored, rather than outright malicious nowadays."

"There was a bit of a spike…" Danielle trails away.

"Yeah, after Phantom and the Red Huntress took off. They thought they'd get free reign, but Destiny showed them otherwise, didn't she?"

"…Yeah…so, you going home? Or maybe somewhere with Sam?"

"Unfortunately, Mom and Dad have been called in to consult on the collapse yesterday. A couple of friends were caught in it, so I'm heading over to the hospital to chat with them, and then I've been summoned to the Police Station to give a witness statement."

"…you aren't going to head over with Maddie–"

" –Mom–"

"–and Jack?"

" –Dad. No…I'm hoping I can get out of it entirely. I'm not too happy about appearing in the witness list to begin with. I'm hoping Mayor Gray can pull a few strings for me."

"What's the big deal?" She shrugs, taking a grape from her fruit cup, "You just happened to be near a building that collapsed."

"I don't like questions," Danny sighs, "Besides…in Amity Park, things are _never_ that simple. Not right now, especially."

"What do you mean?" she blinks.

"The anti-ecto movement," Ashton answers quietly, "right?"

Danny nods, "Yeah."

"The what?!" Danielle's fork falls to her tray, "Seriously? Then…what about…"

"I don't know," Danny whispers, "But if that anti-ecto bill gets passed in Congress, Amity Park is going to be a war zone. I don't know about you," his gaze turns to Ashton, "But I don't think ghosts are big enough of a problem to justify large-scale military involvement in _one_ American city," he glances at his watch, "Well, I better let you two finish eating. I'm off to visit Jaden at the hospital. It was nice meeting you, Ashton," he leans over the table, his voice becoming so quiet that even Danielle can't hear it, "watch your hands, got it? If I see even a _hint_ of funny business, I'll start with _your thumbs_."

"Y-yes s-s-sir," Ashton stutters in reply, imagining red flickering in the college student's eyes.

"Good. Have a good day, you two," He waves them off cheerfully, vanishing around the corner of the building.

"What did he say?" Dani gasps, "You look…well, as pale as a ghost."

"J-just some advice," he replies, "That's all."

"Is that so," she retorts flatly.

"Yes."

-BREAK-

Soft afternoon light pours through his window. He glances as the unpacked boxes still stacked by the wall and grimaces. He should get that done, but he won't. Instead, he curls on his bed, his back propped against the wall and his knees raised nearly to his chest. In his lap is a sketchbook, and in his hand, a pencil.

This particular drawing has been driving him crazy since he started on it yesterday.

"She just doesn't look right," he snarls, tearing the page away and crumpling it in a hand. He shoots for the trash can by his door, only for the crumpled paper to land on the floor. He leaves it there, for now, "The posing, the expression…" he sighs, beginning to scratch at a fresh sheet, "They don't suit her. But what…?"

The new eyes on the page rest beneath furrowed brows, "perhaps…" he whispers, "something more…determined?"

"Ashton!" his mother calls.

"Coming, Mom!" he replies, placing the sketchpad back on his bed.

She waits at the bottom step, her arms loaded with plastic sacks, "Can you help me unload the groceries?"

"Yeah," he nods, "You just focus on putting them away, and I'll bring them in."

"Thank you," she smiles, placing the groceries on the countertop and brushing a stray strand of chocolate hair out of her face, "I finally finished cleaning the fridge this morning and got it all hooked up, so…"

"You mean I no longer have any excuses to request doughnuts for breakfast?" he shouts from the garage, the concrete cold beneath his bare feet as he plucks the milk and cereal from the back seat, "Darn!"

"Aw, I know, you might actually have to eat something a little more nutritious. Poor Muffin," she coos sarcastically, filling the refrigerator door with jam and other condiments.

"Find the bowls yet?" he smirks.

"…no," she admits, "Not the small ones, anyway."

"You found the big, glass salad bowls, but not the normal ones?"

"I don't know where I could have put them," she chews her lip, "I mean, wouldn't they be with all of the other kitchen stuff?"

"You know how you are when you pack," he snorts, "You use _every_ bit of space. For all we know, there could've been an empty spot in another box and you were running out of space for kitchen items, so you just shoved them in there and figured you'd get _everything_ unpacked in a day and that it wouldn't matter."

"I needed to make sure we'd be able to fit everything into the truck," she pouts.

"Yeah, because we have _so much_ stuff."

"We do!"

"Not _really_," he laughs.

"I don't want to hear this from the kid who needed _three_ large boxes for all of his old sketchbooks and art supplies."

"Some people keep journals. I keep sketchbooks."

"Are you working on something right now? How was school, by the way?"

"Well, I almost got to see a ghost fight," he hangs the final bag on his arm, slams the trunk shut, and closes the garage door, "And what I'm trying to draw now is really ticking me off. I can't get it to work like I want it to."

"Which character is it?" she inquires.

"Actually…it's based on…a friend at school."

"Oh?" she arches an eyebrow, "A…friend?"

"Yeah," he starts to unload the bags.

"…what's her name?"

"…Danielle," he replies resignedly.

"Danielle…?"

"…Fenton. Danielle Fenton," he growls, "Yes, _those_ Fentons."

"Wow," she laughs, "She must be really popular, huh? It's a big name in this town."

"Actually," he frowns pensively, "Not really. I'm the only one who sits with her at lunch."

"Why?" she frowns, "I would've thought she'd be _crawling_ with friends and admirers."

"I don't know about friends, but it seems that plenty of guys think she's really pretty – just to be admired at a distance."

"Is she?"

"Is she what?"

"Pretty?"

He feels heat rise to his cheeks, "Yeah, she is."

"Describe her..." she pushes with a smile.

"A little shorter than me, but with long, black hair in a ponytail and _really_ light blue eyes…remember the Ghost-Watch last night?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"Danny Fenton. Imagine a fourteen-year-old, female version of him with long hair, and you'd have Danielle."

"Okay," she nods again, "I can see it. They look similar, huh?"

"Yeah," he smiles, "Yeah…they do. They could be twins…"

"Ashton?"

"Hm?"

"What's on your mind?"

"I met him today – Danny. He showed up at lunch and gave Danielle her math homework."

"He looked like a nice boy."

"He is," he assures with a smile.

_He's also the most terrifying person I've ever met._

**A/N: What, did you think Impurity was possessive of Sam alone? Pff!**


	6. Check

**A/N: Chapter 6! Yay! I heard fangirl squeals about Impurity's little appearance. He's really everyone's favorite, isn't he? If you don't know already, I have a digital sketch of him on my devart account. Links on my profile. I'm definitely better at traditional work, but the digital sketches give you guys an idea. Anyway, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!**

**LunarCatNinja: Welcome! Glad you're enjoying the series so far!**

**Lera-Sing: Yeah, but other kids don't like how she just…vanishes and never gets in trouble for it. Really, they're jealous. More reasons to be explained…probably next chapter.**

**KaLeighSamantha: Worked with Kovich…**

Chapter #6: Check

"Danny…you shouldn't terrify transfer students," Sam scolds, "Poor guy."

"He definitely has a thing for Dani. I'm just telling him to keep it clean."

"I'm pretty sure Dani can handle herself," she remarks dryly.

"Doesn't mean I can't help out," he grins.

"What are you going to do when she gets a boyfriend? Or when Jazz gets one? I know she's been too occupied with studying to bother with dating, but…"

"I'll do what I did earlier. I'll warn him to watch himself. I won't be spying on him, like I did Johnny…unless he gives me a really good reason."

She laughs and shakes her head, "Why, hello, Impurity."

"…Yeah, I'm fairly certain it stems from him. Jazz is _my_ sister. Danielle is _my _clone. He tends to be protective of _my_ _things._"

His fingers drum on the armrest of the chair.

"…I hate that there's a part of me that views you as _things_ to be _owned_," he whispers.

"As long as there's a part of you that knows better to balance it out," she kisses his forehead, "So…what we didn't have nailed down for the wedding were the dresses for the bridesmaids. I don't want them to be the typical bridesmaid dresses. They're hideous…and you can only wear them once. Everyone jokes otherwise, but…"

"I think you've been watching _27 Dresses_ again," he smirks, watching the blush rise to her cheeks.

"…There are worse chick-flicks out there," she defends.

"I don't bother to rank them," he raises his hands in surrender, "A chick-flick is a chick-flick…and your love of them will stay with me to my grave..."

"Let's see, my Maid of Honor is Valerie…the other bridesmaids are Dani, Jazz, and Crystal…"

"Why are you consulting _me_ about this?" He asks nervously, "I don't know _anything_ about dresses."

"Because my mom won't listen to me, and you know more than my dad," she replies.

"Well…" he leans back into his seat, "You can't go wrong with black. Or you could do silver, to make a contrast with you."

Mental images of long, silver, chiffon dresses that secure around the neck flash through his mind.

"It's going to be a winter wedding, so I would suggest they have cloaks or _something_ to help keep them warm," he answers.

He gets the same picture, but with black, fur-lined, hip-length shawls added to the ensemble.

"I think that would work. I'm no expert, though. I would consult _them_."

"…You were still helpful…somewhat," she nods.

"Glad to be of service," he smiles. His phone rings, and he snaps it to his ear, "Yeah, Mom?...I really have to go? Fine, fine, I'll meet you there. Yeah. See you in a few."

"The Police Station?" Sam questions.

"Yeah, unfortunately," he grimaces, "I can't get out of it this time."

"You'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"…You'll be better off than me."

"…Why?"

"Because I'm about to tell my mom that my bridesmaids are wearing silver – which is pretty close to white."

"Ah," he nods, "Only the bride wears white on her wedding day."

"Yep."

"…I really don't want to help you hide a body, Sam. Try not to kill her?"

"I promise nothing."

-BREAK-

"Detective Morrison."

"Stone," they each introduce themselves, "Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton…is your son…?"

"He's coming. He was busy with wedding stuff, so he'll be here in a few minutes," Maddie explains.

Detective Stone nods and leads them through the hallways to the office she and Morrison are using. Photographs litter the table, and signs of a sleepless night – empty Styrofoam cups – lay discarded on the floor.

The couple take their seats, "So…you said there was something unusual?"

"Besides a desk from the third floor appearing _under_ third-floor rubble? Yeah," he tosses the photo of the message to them, "Does this mean anything to you?"

"No…" Maddie mutters, "Seven days? Until what? Of what?"

"Look at the scorch patterns," Jack mutters, his eyes unusually focused, "Definitely ectoplasmic in origin…"

"Do you think that the pattern varies by ecto-signature?"

"If so, we might be able to track the one responsible…"

"We'll have to test."

"We'll have to ask for volunteers from ghosts with a hot core," Jack adds, "D…Destiny's cold core would make it a bit difficult to cause extensive, precise fire, so it has to be someone who is already affiliated with fire."

"I concur," Maddie nods.

The door swings open, and Danny jogs through, "Hey! Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything important?"

"Danny, what do you think of this?" Maddie hands over the photo.

Detective Stone watches the grin fall from his face, his eyes going cold, "Nothing good, I'm guessing. It's ghost work, as I'm sure you've already figured out."

"Which ghosts have a hot core?"

"That could do this?" He sighs, massaging the back of his neck, "Ember, maybe, but this isn't her style. Skulker has a hot core too…I can't think of anybody who'd do this off the top of my head. While they have a hot core, few of them are capable of full-on pyrokinesis. Definitely not stuff this…delicate."

Stone watches the nervous façade slip away again. The eyes examining the photo are calm, collected, and she can almost see the information he's sorting through in his mind.

"There's only one…" His fist clenches, crushing the photo. Morrison leaps to snatch it away before it becomes damaged further.

"Who?"

"No, this…" he glares again in the direction of the photo, and then rushes from the room.

"Danny?"

-BREAK-

His eyes burn red, his fists clenching behind his back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears. He can feel Sam, in the corner of the room, watching him wear a hole in the carpet with his pacing.

"Danny, what's up? You've got me walled out," she finally comments, "Why are you pacing my carpet and growling like some sort of caged animal?"

"He's not dead, Sam," he growls.

_Hunt him down. Finish him yourself._

"Who's not…?"

"Vlad!" he snarls, his cell phone crunching in his hand, "He's back, Sam. I'm sure of it."

"How?" she whispers, receiving a mental image of the photograph. While his mind is open, she feels around delicately. Rage boils beneath a tight leash, and she can hear Impurity egging it on.

"He's the only ghost I know who can do something so…finicky. It's just his style, too."

"You've kicked his butt before, I'm sure you can do it again," she assures.

"Sam, he wouldn't tell me without reason. He's a chess-master, remember? No, this…" he tosses his ruined cell aside, the tiny bits scattering into the corner, "This is him, declaring Check, and I don't know where my King is or where to move him."

_Kill the source of the attack before it happens. Look at everything he's done to you, Danny. Would you really regret it?_

"Something really bad is about to happen," Danny whispers, collapsing into the sofa, "And I don't know how to stop it. I don't even know what I need to stop."

"You don't need to carry the world on your shoulders, Danny," Sam whispers, taking his hand in hers, "You can't be expected to stop every little problem before it happens. The important thing is to be there when it does."

"…Thank you," he whispers, his eyes beginning to fade back to blue.

"Look on the bright side," she begins.

"Bright side?"

"He can't _possibly_ be more worse than my mom."


	7. Potential

**A/N: So, a short chapter, but needs to be on its own. Mixed responses on Vlad, but here's my one little hint to you.**

**You refer to him as ****_the_**** villain of the story. Who said there would only be ****_one_****?**

**That's all you get. Now, on to my short chapter. Enjoy!**

Chapter #7: Potential

"You seem distraught, Danny," Clockwork notes from before his screen in Latin, "And I get the feeling that The Observants' Council has little to do with it."

"A feeling, huh?" Danny snorts, "You know who it is."

"Yes…" he confesses, "The…Froot-Loop, as you call him."

"Why don't the Observants pitch a fit over _him_, anyway? What's with that?!" He shuts his book and stands, itching to move. He finds an icy sword forming in his hand. Once in a large, clear area in the room, he begins to flow through the forms Pandora's guard has taught him.

"I believe they tried," Clockwork notes, "On several occasions. However, unlike you, Vlad isn't a law-abiding citizen who comes when summoned. He blatantly broke Vortex free, after all."

"I'm not sure If I can be considered a law-abiding citizen either," he retorts, "I mean, just look at Walker's file on me!"

"Pah!" he scoffs, "No one really cares about _Walker's_ laws. They only mention them because it's a mark against you."

"Why do they hate me so much anyway?"

"You get involved. They Observe – not act. Besides, if we put you and the Observants' Council in a room, and told everyone to pick a side…who do you think they'd choose?"

"…not me," Danny freezes, "Definitely not me."

"Oh?" Clockwork raises an eyebrow.

"You can't be serious," he mutters, "I mean, I've _fought_ half of the Infinite Realms and shoved them into thermoses. I don't exactly make a ton of friends."

"But if there was a threat, they would come to you for help," Clockwork replies softly.

Only the sound of ticking clocks can be heard, each one like a heartbeat. Together, they create a storm in the silence.

"The Infinite Realm is a big place," Danny whispers, "I doubt the majority of it would agree with you."

"You'll have to acknowledge your impact on us someday, Danny," Clockwork admonishes.

"So, what, the Observants don't like me because I'd win a popularity contest?"

"No," Clockwork shakes his head, his beard swaying with the motion, "Daniel…they don't like you because a _king_ would render them obsolete."

The blade of ice shatters on the floor, green eyes staring at the age-shifting ghost in shock.

"I…" he swallows nervously, "I'm _not_ a king. I don't _want_ to be one. I have a lot of things I need to do. I have a fiancée to marry, schooling to complete, the rest of my life to live–"

"Whether or not it's _in your plans_ means nothing to them," Clockwork dismisses with a wave, "The potential is there. Just as the potential to become _him_ was," he nods to the dented thermos, "They saw that potential and ordered your destruction. Now they see the potential for a king."

"It's ridiculous. It'll never happen."

"It would make Frostbite's day though, wouldn't it?" the older ghost smirks.

"Yeah, I suppose it would," Danny chuckles, relaxing a bit.

He doesn't hear his master's final whisper.

"All hail King Phantom."


	8. Common Obsession

**A/N: Chapter 8, Folks! A lot of you were all like "ooooooh~" at the last chapter. All I can think of is…have any of you watched a TV show called Leverage? In episode 1, (around 38:00 or so) Sophie tells Nate "This time, you really are inside my head," and walks away. Hardison rolls past Nate in a computer chair and is all like "ooooh, oooh." Look it up if you can. It's absolutely hilarious, and it's what I picture every time.**

**I added two more sections to my Q&A forum: "Portals" and "Spirit, Humanity, Impurity"**

**KodiakWolfe13: I know, we haven't seen him since Journey of Secrets!**

**Avidreaded: Ring of Rage…to be explained later. And I'm glad you remember who was last seen with the crown…also: Ghost Pamela vs. Vlad made me laugh. :D**

Chapter #8: Common Obsession

"Sam," Maddie Fenton smiles, doling out little spots of dough on a cookie sheet, "How are you?"

"Alive," Sam laughs, "Not sure how much longer, but…"

"Have you seen Danny? He went storming out of the police station before they could even get his witness statement, and I haven't seen him since."

"He was fuming at my house for about half an hour," Sam answers, taking an offered cookie, "And then he went to Clockwork's place. He'll be back soon. I told him to meet me here, so he might come through your portal downstairs."

Maddie nods, "…it's Vlad, isn't it?" she whispers, hesitating to place more soft lumps of dough on the cookie sheet.

"He believes so. I mean, we don't have any proof, but…"

"We never got proof of his…of his death, either," she finishes.

"Danny's been paranoid about it for three years now," Sam sighs, taking a seat at the counter, "I think part of it's curiosity. We don't know what'll happen when…when Danny dies. Will a halfa become full ghost? Will he be stuck in limbo? No one knows, and all we have are theories. I don't think he'll ever admit it, but…" she takes a shaking breath, trying to withhold the sudden need to cry, "…he's terrified, Maddie. Terrified of dying."

"He's even more terrified of others dying before him," she replies, "And he'll overlook his own fear for their sake."

"He will. He always does," she shakes her head. "…these are pretty amazing cookies, Maddie," she laughs, "I should put some in a baggie before Mr. Fenton gets up here and takes them all."

"When it comes to _these_ cookies, _Danny_ is nearly as bad as his father," Maddie snorts, "_Danielle_ eats as much as both put together. Oh well – not my first half-ghost teenage superhero. I'm sure it takes a lot of calories."

"Especially because I don't have as much energy as Danny," Danielle phases down from above, plucking a cookie from the paper towel it cools on, "Innate ghost-energy, that is. We think it's a side-effect of cloning," she devours the cookie in a single bite and snatches another one, "I was _created_ as a ghost. Ghosts are typically formed around emotions. Danny had fourteen years worth of memories and emotions for his ghost half to form around – I had none. My ghost powers have to sustain and form themselves around the memories I've created in the past…three years as they're created. Let's put it this way," she finishes her fifth cookie, "I'm a video that is racing along with the buffer line; every once in a while, I catch up and have to wait while the buffering line continues on. Danny's video had _plenty_ of time to buffer, and the buffering line moves quickly enough that he'll never catch up to it."

"I think I understood it more _before_," Maddie sighs.

She shrugs, "It's the best analogy I could come up with. It's pretty good, coming from me."

"Yeah…so, Dani…" Sam smirks, leaning on an elbow, "Going to tell us about Ashton?"

"What about him?" she blinks, halfway through another cookie.

"Who's Ashton?" Maddie's brow furrows, and she slaps Dani's hand away from a tenth cookie.

"Just a kid who transferred in," Dani shrugs, "He got lost on his first day, so I helped him out – we were headed to the same class. He's started sitting with me at lunch."

"Oh?" Maddie smiles, "Is he cute?"

She chews her lip, "Yeah, I guess so, now that I think about it."

"What's he like?"

"Umm…" she leans on the counter, "He's kind of quiet until you get him talking. Stutters a bit, especially when talking to girls or anyone older than him. Average at sports…he's good at art. Like, comic-book stuff. I think he likes to write, too."

"And Danny scared the crap out of him," Sam snorts.

"I didn't hear what he said," Danielle frowns, "But Ashton went _really_ pale. Did he tell you?"

"Something along the lines of 'keep your hands to yourself or I'll break them,'" Sam answers.

Dani rolls her eyes, "I can handle myself. He's not that type anyway."

"You know how Danny is," Sam shrugs, "Especially since he's meeting with The Observants' Coucil tomorrow."

"It could be worse," Danny appears in the doorway to the lab, striding over to snatch a cookie, "There could be _no_ Observants' Council."

"What would _that_ mean?" Sam questions, not surprised by his sudden appearance.

"Nothing I'm interested in being involved with," Danny answers cryptically, shoving another cookie into his mouth as means to ending the questioning, "So…I have a meeting with the Observants' Council tomorrow, so I'll probably be unavailable all day. Jazz comes in the day after that, and then Tuck and Val show up on Monday, two days later, right?"

"Yeah, that sounds right. By the way, Danny…" Maddie smirks.

"Yeah?"

"…how many of those cookies are you going to eat before dinner?"

He looks down at the nearly empty paper towels, little stains from where cookies had been cooling, and shoves the last bit of a cookie into his mouth before dusting off his hands, "No more."

"Wise choice," she chuckles, shaking her head.

-BREAK-

Her coffee is cold. She can't figure out why. She only poured it thirty minutes ago – scratch that, three _hours_ ago. When did it become two in the morning?

"You don't usually stay up this late, do you?" Ghost Writer inquires, carefully placing a steaming cup on the wooden table and tossing the cold one into a nearby trash can.

"No. I have a lot of questions," she looks up at him, and he slouches into the chair beside her, sipping at his own coffee.

Waiting.

"These ancient ghosts that sealed Pariah Dark away…who were they?"

He hums softly, "Their names have long since been lost to us. I suspect Clockwork would know them, but…I know that there were seven of them. Some believe that they may have been The Seven Sins incarnated, others theorize that they're actually the Seven Virtues."

"What do you believe?" she leans forward a little.

"Emotions related to the Seven Sins are more believable," he begins, "Energy forms better around negative emotions. However, the Seven Sins would not have simply disappeared afterwards. They would've taken power for themselves. Therefore, they _must_ have been the Seven Virtues, in my opinion."

She nods, "I can see that…now, a second question; what was Pariah's obsession? What made him _so powerful_ even without the Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire?"

"Believe it or not, Pariah's obsession is very simple. Common, even," he begins quietly.

She waits for him to continue.

"Power. Pariah was obsessed with power. He was strong enough to subjugate the Infinite Realms without the ring and crown, so why did he so desperately seek them? He wanted more power. But even with all of that power, he could not obtain the one thing he desired. He could not change what he desired to change," he takes a deep breath, "…do you know why power is such a common obsession, Jasmine?"

She shakes her head.

"Because in the moment of death, you realize how powerless you are," he answers, his voice hardly a whisper, "You realize that no matter what you do, your heart is going to stop beating. That you're going to end up in a casket six feet under. That those who love you will mourn, and there will be _nothing_ you can do for them, not anymore. You wish you could _change_ it. You wish desperately for _the power to change it_…and your obsession forms around that wish. Sometimes a ghost is more specific, but…in the end, those who crave power only want one thing."

"What's that?"

"They want their life back. Really, that's what every obsession is about," he takes a sip of his coffee with a shrug, "It's just whatever life meant to you."

"So the Box Ghost's life meant…boxes?" her face falls, "That's…sad, actually."

"But _why_ did it mean boxes?" he counters, "Was it because he was working twelve hour shifts at the docks to support his family? To put a sibling through school? To care for ailing parents? We don't know. Obsessions can be…difficult like that."

She nods absently, her eyes scanning the shelves around her.

"You can ask," he smiles softly, "The question you really want to ask."

"So…life, to you…meant books?"

"_Writing_," he clarifies, "It wasn't my life, but…I wanted it to be."

His green eyes scan the tomes, an almost satisfied smile on his face, "When I died, Jasmine, I could see all of it. The ideas, the dreams…the novels that never got to be. The great minds who allowed their dreams to die. Everyone has a story they wish they could tell, they wish that they could _just_ write down. The Infinite Realms are where ideas and dreams drift to, Jasmine. Every idea from the beginning of mankind rests within its borders. Every story that was never written, never told. I know every last one of them, and I will write the stories their creators never did. I will give life to every untold story, and gather the lost here in my library."

"It'll take you a long time, won't it?" she asks with a smile.

"Forever," he grins, his green eyes sparkling.

**A/N: Uggghhh, I want to just tell you guys GW's back-story SO BAD!...but it'll have to wait. For now, you'll have to satisfy yourselves with little hints. ;P I kind of look at that second part as a bit of a sequel to "Getting' Deep at O'Hares" from my One-shot collection. Not the same players, though.**


	9. Obsesrvants

**A/N: Lots of new readers! Welcome to all of you~~**

**LotusWriter786: Believe it or not, my update speed has slowed. I updated J.O.S. daily. Then again, that was before I got a job.**

**Teenaged Author: It's tough, but with some ghostly energy to trigger obsession…**

**The Howling Behemoth: It's ****_writing_**** the stories, specifically. Glad you agree with his obsession. :D**

**I've noticed a lot of you like my in-depth approach to obsession theory and the like. I'm not one of those authors who can typically shrug things off with "MAGIC" as the explanation and leave it there. I mean, yes, magic can be the answer, but HOW is magic the answer? …anyway, I feel like explaining it to you gives you a better sense of the world and makes it feel more concrete.**

Chapter #9: Observants

Danny sucks a steadying breath into his lungs, staring up at the large double-doors. A stained-glass eye glares down from the upper portion of the doors, the rest of the door glowing softly with ectoplasmic runes.

"Just keep your temper in check and let me do all of the talking," Clockwork suggests.

"I'll try," he sighs, clenching his white-gloved fists.

"So you shall," his mentor drolls, waving his staff. The doors begin to creak open, and Danny follows him inside.

A common misconception about The Observants – one he had been victim to at one point – is that they all look the same, as though the same species, or perhaps duplicates of the same ghost. It's neither, as he's learned. They're all different ghosts in a uniform of sorts. The clothing they wear allows for what Sam calls 'Glamour'. An illusion created by manipulating the miasma of the Infinite Realms. This allows members of the council to retain their anonymity.

Regardless of that knowledge, he still finds it unsettling when the entire room falls silent, locking their giant eyes on the two ghosts at the doorway.

"Ah, Clockwork," Observant One greets, standing before the giant screens that show the faces of the seven 'jurors' chosen for this particular meeting, "I see you've taken it upon yourself to be The Halfa's defense once again? I believe you intervene too much."

"I'm not bound by the same rule as yourselves," Clockwork dismisses with a wave of his hand, "I have one interest, and one interest only. That is the best outcome for us all, in both realms. I will interfere if I feel it's necessary to keep us on the correct track. You know that."

Observant One hums disapprovingly, "You know of the danger your…pupil…poses. Potentially speaking."

"Oh, I am _quite_ aware," Clockwork snorts, "Of the danger he poses to _you_. You'd have him thrown in prison, and then when Pariah Dark or some other vile cretin starts making trouble, you'd go crawling back, apologizing and _begging_ him to save us. You only want a powerful hero around when it suits you."

"Pariah is safely sealed away–"

"Because of _him_," Clockwork motions towards Danny, who is obediently – for once – keeping his mouth shut, "The other ghosts were being forced from their homes, your precious Council Building was in ruins…and you did _nothing_. You just sat back and waited for _someone else _to solve the problem. Now you want to lock him away because he was strong enough to do so?"

"We knew he would save them all, just as he did," Observant Two defends, "And just as he was destined to become _him_."

Worried whispers flood the auditorium.

"How many times must I tell you that the future is not set in stone?!" Clockwork's staff sparks against the floor, "This is nonsense. Give us a good reason for being here, or I take Phantom and you can _observe_ us walking back out of your little courtroom."

"…The Crown of Fire," Observant Two begins.

"What about it?"

"We can no longer see its location," he explains, "It just…vanished."

"I don't follow _things_," Clockwork snorts, "I wouldn't be able to locate it either. Didn't Plasmius last have possession of it? Back when he made a pact with the Fright Knight."

"This is true, but it was kept under the Fright Knight's watch in Pariah's Keep. It has just vanished, and we cannot see where it is kept."

Clockwork taps his foot, "Then it must be kept outside both the Mortal and Infinite Boundaries, much like the…what did your side call it, Danny? The asteroid that nearly destroyed us all?"

"The Disasteroid," Danny replies simply, "Wait…so because it existed outside of both realms, you couldn't see it coming?"

"No," Clockwork confesses, "They couldn't. It wasn't part of the path they saw – it was on one of my branches."

"…And you didn't say anything?"

"I knew that you would best figure it out without my prompting," the Ghost of Time shrugs.

Danny chuckles and shakes his head, "…the 'best' method being the one that teaches me something."

"Of course," he smiles back.

"And perhaps you feel the same way about The Crown?" Danny whispers quietly, unheard by the council.

Clockwork smiles mysteriously.

"What about the Ring of Rage?" Danny inquires, "Is it still with Pariah?"

"We cannot tell. That which is within the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep exists beyond our vision," Observant One admits grudgingly.

"If you can't see it, then it must still be within, right? You'd see if someone managed to remove it. That means the Crown and Ring are separated, at least. That's a consolation. What I still don't understand is why _I'm_ here."

The room falls silent once again.

"That would be _my _doing."

Danny groans, recognizing the voice. He turns to another doorway to face Walker, who stands with his hands behind his back.

"I'd like to contest the destruction of my prison."

"Walker, that was almost three years ago," Danny sighs, "Are you bringing this up _again_? I have a wedding to plan!"

"We find it disturbing that you did not even consider diplomatic channels," Observant One sniffs.

"Yeah, because _Walker_ is so reasonable," he snorts, "For all I knew, _he_ was the one who caused the accident to begin with. He was unlawfully holding humans within his prison."

"And this differs from the pirates you placed in Pandora's care?" Observant Two retorts.

"Yeah, because they aren't chained up and beaten. They're more like…guests who can't leave. Besides, they're guilty of murder, theft, blackmailing, and a who _knows_ what else! What were Valerie and the others guilty of? Being humans who were unwillingly stranded in the Infinite Realms? If someone was kidnapped and left on property with a 'No Trespassing' sign, would they be guilty? Would they be prosecuted for trespassing?"

"They were considering escape," Walker answers.

"That's entrapment," Danny snorts, "And flimsy. Is 'considering' escape a crime? If so, anyone who's ever been a prisoner is guilty."

"They went through with it."

"No, _I_ went through with it. They simply allowed themselves to be rescued. Not only that, but we've already established that you had _no right_ to keep them there."

"Is that a confession?"

"The council already established that I was responsible for the jailbreak and declared it a form of justified defense of others."

Walker's smile fades.

"Now, Walker, as for _you_," Danny growls, "You've been causing trouble in the Mortal Realm again. Ghosts are a hot issue in my country, and you're _not_ helping."

Clockwork watches the exchange with a small smile.

"You know…" he looks up at the Observants, "You need to make a decision. Are you the governors of the Infinite Realms or not? Are you the peacekeepers, or will you just observe no matter the situation? If you are peacekeepers, then you'll keep better control of your own subjects as well, including their conduct in the Mortal Realm. You interfere here and there; they'll never take you seriously if you keep it up. They know that they can just ignore you!"

"Daniel Phantom–"

Danny cuts the Observant off, "Intervene or not!" he shouts, "Pick one and stick to it! No wonder the Infinite Realms have stayed in a state of decay since the reign of Pariah Dark. I've seen the past," he finishes more quietly, "The past of these realms, when they were vibrant and filled with imaginative lands. When they were more than the occasional door or rock. Pariah reduced it to a wasteland and in his absence, you stepped in, wielding a weak hand. Outlaws do whatever they want, knowing that no one is going to stop them. You've let the Infinite Realms become a lawless mess!"

"We will not remove the freedom of the Infinite Realms," Observant Two hisses.

"There's a difference between freedom and anarchy," Danny holds his gaze until the Observant looks away.

Clockwork grins, surveying the shocked expressions of the council. He then turns his eyes on his student. He stands proudly in the center of the room, his green eyes glowing with determination as he continues his debate with the councilman.

_All hail King Phantom!_

**A/N: So, about the Observants and the fact that they're different and just disguised: When I double-checked in Torrent of Terror, Vlad is disguised as one of the Observant guards. I wondered how he did that, changing the color and shape of his tail…but when he took off his helmet, he was Vlad beneath. I decided that the Observants' Council is a group of clairvoyant ghosts who wear a uniform that manipulates the miasma of the Ghost Zone to hide their identities. This is so that when seven are randomly chosen to act as jury members, they cannot be tracked or hunted down. No one can even tell which one is which. **


	10. Early Flight

**A/N: I'm too tired and feeling too lazy to write anything special for you. However, here's some Sam! Yay! She'll get more screen-time in later chapters, but she's been in the background a little more than usual this time around, probably because she's busy arguing with Pamela, and we've heard every argument they've had a billion times already. ;P**

**This chapter is fluff. Pure fluff. Like…I'm not sure it's actually relevant to the story. I think I just feel a little guilty for how little Sam's showing up so far. Especially as I know she's the favorite of several people. *Cough* The Talent *Cough***

Chapter #10: Early Flight

Sam runs a hand briefly through the pitch-black strands of hair, earning a contented hum from her fiancée.

_::We need to get up, Danny.::_

He groans, his thoughts a murky, garbled mess.

_::…That was helpful. Come _on_, we were going to sneak out before my parents got up, remember? They get up _early_.::_

_::Where were we going again?:: _he manages to think.

_::I was thinking we'd start on a waterfront ride and just improvise from there.::_

_::…remind me why we can't go later?::_

_::Because my mom will insist that taking a break will _ruin_ the wedding plans and set us _ages_ behind,::_ she snorts, _::Come on, Danny. We'll ride to a quiet spot on the waterfront and then maybe we can go flying…::_

_::Flying sounds good,::_ he smiles, slowly blinking open his blue eyes. They glow in the darkness a little, _::During the day, especially.::_

_::It'll definitely be warmer,::_ she smiles.

_::Though I can think of something else warm too…::_ he chuckles, pulling her against his chest, his lips brushing her neck.

_::Steamy make-out sessions are even better when flying,::_ she giggles, pressing her lips to his.

_::But the bed…::_ he begins, one hand caressing her side, _::It's so comfortable…the force is strong.::_

_::Flying, just the two of us, over Lake Superior. In the sunlight. We can pretend that there _is_ no secret. That we can just _be_.::_

He snorts, _::The halfa, in his natural habitat.::_

She punches him lightly in the gut, laughing silently and shaking her head, _::Let's go,::_ she pulls from his embrace – earning a slight flicker of red through his eyes – but she can hear him move the sheets aside. She takes a moment to appreciate the way the shadows cast by the lamp accentuate his bare chest, even the scars. They're smaller than before, but she suspects that a few of them will never completely vanish, even with ghostly powers.

Danny whisks off his sweatpants without hesitation and reaches for his riding leathers. She can feel his eyes sweep her, clad in a cropped tank-top and boy shorts. She enjoys the little smile that pulls at his lips.

He's definitely become less shy as the years have gone on. Oh, his shyness still makes the occasional appearance, but when they're alone…he's not terribly self-conscious, and neither is she. It's…comfortable.

She looks around at the nostalgic dark walls of her room, and she has to admit that she wishes for the comfort and privacy of their little fourth-floor apartment. It's a nice apartment – with two incomes and only one bedroom, they can afford something a little better than most college students. She misses its plethora of windows with heavy curtains. She misses the mismatched furniture that they'd bought from various garage sales and antique stores.

She muses on the fact that she doesn't even really know her neighbors. She and Danny keep to themselves. They're not very neighborly. They probably haven't even noticed that the two college students have been away.

She pulls her leather jacket over her shoulders and snatches her helmet from her dresser.

_::Ready?::_

_::Yeah,::_ Danny replies, taking her hand. He phases them outside, to where his bike waits. They wheel it from the garage before starting it up. She climbs on behind him, fisting her gloved hands into his jacket.

They ride down the empty street, and Danny angles them towards the docks. The streets are fairly quiet, and she wonders momentarily if Danny's motorcycle is waking people up. She shoves the concern away and watches the sky lighten in the distance.

The coast is entirely empty, and they leave the bike in the parking lot of a boating shop. They'll be gone before it opens. Danny takes her hand in his, allowing himself to transform. She can feel herself become lighter, floating into the air.

"My mom's going to have an aneurism when she wakes up and realizes we're gone," she laughs, using her voice for the first time that morning.

"Not a surprise," he replies dryly. A wicked grin spreads on her face.

"I left her a note saying that we're eloping to Vegas."

His jaw drops, and his green eyes stare at her in horror, "You really want to kill her," he whispers weakly, "And you've come up with a plan to do it without any evidence."

"I'll make good on it if she continues," she growls.

He laughs and shakes his head, "I was thinking we'd elope to the Far Frozen. Kings can perform marriages, and Frostbite would be ecstatic. He'd have a church built for the sole purpose of the ceremony."

They fly out over the water, and she takes a deep breath. She can smell the fishy scent of the lake, the pines in the forest. Her favorite, however, is the scent of her fiancée, who cradles her against his chest as they fly. She can't ever describe the way he smells – there's something crisp about it, perhaps a side effect of his ice powers.

Danny tucks her even closer to his chest and spirals upward. Several hundred feet above the water, she watches the white rings wash over his body once again, and they begin to fall. Her heart hammers in her chest, the wind sweeping her breath away. The only sound is the pounding in her ears…and their laughter as the dark water approaches.

She looks up at him, locking with ruby eyes, "Now, now, Samantha, what did I tell you about killing anyone besides me?" Impurity purrs, pressing his lips to hers.

"I thought you were pretty much merged with Danny nowadays," she glances back down at the quickly-approaching surface of the water.

He grins, showcasing his pointed teeth, "Oh, I'll _always_ be here."

The water is only a few feet away, and she feels a chill wash over her, her skin tingling with intangibility as they hit the water's surface – or rather, go _through_ it.

"I thought you'd swoop up at the last second."

Danny – his blue eyes returned – shrugs, "That was the plan…and then I just kind of thought it'd be fun to surprise you. Wanted to see if it would scare you," he grins.

"You're going to try harder than that, ghost-boy," she snorts.

"I guess so," he grins mischievously, pressing his lips to hers. She can feel the water moving around them, _through_ them, each one causing a tingling wave through her body, almost like touching a limb that's fallen asleep.

His lips move against hers, and she melts into the kiss, each wave of water sending tiny pulses of pleasure through her skin and adding to the sensation. His lips move from hers to her neck, tracing down to her collarbone.

She looks up at the surface of the water, the early morning sun creating a hazy window. They're alone down here, completely alone.

"I love you, Sam," Danny whispers into her ear, his cold breath ragged.

"I love you too."

He holds her in his arms a little while longer, "…Clockwork's making some comments lately that have me on edge," he confesses quietly.

"What kind of comments?" her brows furrow in concern. She's felt the undertones of unease beneath his anger at Vlad, an unease even more prominent after his meeting with the Observants.

"…he says that the Observants want to get rid of me because…" he swallows nervously, "…because they think I'll become The King of Ghosts."

_You are the widow of _Danny Phantom, King of Ghosts_. We will all stand behind our queen in her time of need._

The words from her dream echo in her mind, in a portion locked away from Danny. It's from _that_ dream, the one of…the dream of his funeral. A dream where he's mourned by humans and ghosts alike, leaving her behind.

"Sam?"

It takes her a moment to realize that she's crushing herself into his chest, her hands tangling painfully into his jacket.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she snorts, "Just ticked. That's a really stupid reason to want you gone."

"It'd render them obsolete," he whispers quietly, "Besides, a having a king didn't go over well last time."

"No, it didn't," she agrees, "But you don't _want _to be king – I know you don't. You're not that type."

"Ever get that feeling that you might not have a choice?" he whispers quietly, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on her shoulder.

"There's _always_ a choice, Danny," she cups his jaw, angling his worried blue eyes to hers.

"I'm not always so sure about that. Can you call choices that would tear you apart inside actual choices? If I were to choose between the life I want and becoming Ghost King, but choosing the life I want would cause someone pain and suffering…" his voice fades away, "It would cease to be the life I want."

"The guilt would eat it all away," she whispers.

"I don't care if _I'm_ miserable," he laughs mirthlessly, "So long as others are happy. I'll bind myself if it means others go free."

"And you couldn't possibly choose any other path," she whispers, and he shakes his head gently, cradling her to his chest and running his fingers through her hair.

"That's the nature of my obsession."

**A/N: What dream? Read Chapter 14 of Adrift. :D That's the one she's talking about.**


	11. Jazz's Bad Day

**A/N: So, this chapter references my One-shot Collection a bit. Chapters 10 & 11. :D If you don't know who Lisa is, you can go read that. I was busy with Ikkicon this weekend. I cosplayed Masayuki Hori (Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun, I had friends as Mikorin and Kashima) on Friday and then went steampunk (Well, more Dieselpunk, technically…) on Saturday. :D So I am wiped, but…I have a lot of days off work this week, so…maybe…more writing?**

**Also, I bought a print of my favorite Harvest Moon bachelor, Wizard, from Animal Parade. Random trivia: My favorite Rune Factory bachelor is Dylas. ^/^**

Chapter #11: Jazz's Bad Day

This day has not gotten off to a good start. To begin, Jamie had thrown a surprise party for a friend and gotten herself locked in the bathroom before passing out. Angie had been nowhere to be found when Jazz had returned from the University Library to the spectacle.

"She must have seen the party coming," Jazz growls to no one in particular, fishing around in her glove compartment, "I should've gone to Cecil's place after the library closed. Did they really _have_ to boot me out?"

His name still feels foreign on her tongue, some sacred word she's not allowed to speak casually even though she learned it approximately seven months ago. Ghosts hold their lives as closely guarded secrets, and he'd given her a small piece of it; his first name.

She plucks a stack of papers from within and begins to file through them. She takes a brief second to look up through her rearview mirror, at the shadow shuffling around in the other car – presumably for the same reason.

Finally, she finds her insurance information, scribbling it down on a notepad she keeps in her car, and steps outside. Her eyes turn to her bumper, which now sits with one side scraping the dirt. She resists the urge to fiddle with it for the moment – she'll do that in a second.

She turns her eyes to the other car, a silver Subaru with a crumpled bumper and a broken headlight – it's in better shape than hers. Then again, her car is old and full of rust, while the offender looks fairly new. _Offender,_ she snorts, _It's not actually his fault._

She'd been driving along the highway as usual, the Subaru in the other lane, a little ahead of her. A truck heading in the opposing direction swerved into his lane – for what reason, she had no idea – and the Subaru driver had swerved to avoid him, swiping her back bumper in the process.

He finally straightens and exits his car, jogging over, "I am _so_ sorry about that," he crouches by her fender and inspects it with piercing grey eyes that he quickly turns on her, "Are _you _okay?"

"Y-yeah," she nods, "A little shaky from the adrenaline pumping through my system right now, but I handle that pretty well."

Those grey eyes scan her head-to-toe once again, and she returns the gesture, "What about you?"

"I'm fine," he shrugs, running a hand through his short, straight, clean-cut brown hair.

"Have you called the cops, or should I?" she frowns, "I mean, we'll need to file a report to our insurance companies and they'll probably want a police report."

He nods, "I called already," his serious mien falls to a grimace, "Man, the paperwork is going to _suck_."

"It always does," she groans, leaning against her car, "This is _not_ my day. I should've _known_ Danny's luck was contagious."

"Before we forget," he hands over a small paper, "Here's my information."

"Thanks," she places her own in his hand, "Jasmine. Jasmine Fenton. Call me Jazz," she offers her hand.

He takes it with a firm grip, "Darren. Darren Blake."

"Nice to meet you," she smiles wearily, and he returns the salutation.

"So…" he leans beside her, chewing his lips a little.

"…Yes, _those_ Fentons," she chuckles, sensing the impending question.

"…I suppose you're heading back to Amity Park, then?"

"Yeah," she nods, "My brother's getting married and I have dress fittings to attend. I'll probably give his wife some therapy…normal family stuff."

"Think you'll have any ghosts there?" he grins.

"Oh, I'm sure," she nods, "Frostbite wouldn't miss it for the world."

"I haven't heard of that one," he almost questions.

"Sorry, Mr. Blake," she smirks, "But it's a really long story, and our cops are almost here," she cranes around him to see the road, where a patrol car approaches.

"You'll have to tell me sometime," he smiles.

They explain the situation to the officer, officially placing their corroborating stories into the system. He leaves more quickly than he arrived, and Jazz finds herself staring at her bumper again.

She'd tried to get into her backpack earlier, but she'd placed it in the trunk – which no longer opens.

"Is there something in there that you need?" Darren asks, leaning against his own car with his arms crossed.

"Not really," she sighs, "Not _right now_, anyway. I'll just have my brother help me out."

"He's good with cars?"

"He's good at helping people," she answers briskly, "I'm just trying to figure out what to do with this bumper," she kicks at it gently, "I can't just leave it scraping the ground."

He stares at it for a second before holding a hand up in a 'one moment' gesture and vanishing around the back of his car. He returns a second later with a neon-orange roll of duct tape, which he holds up with a triumphant and dashing grin.

"You really think that'll hold it?" she questions skeptically.

He looks at her in mock horror, his voice a whisper, "You _doubt_ the duct tape? The very substance that holds _the universe_ together?"

She massages at her temples with a sigh, "I suppose it'll work until I can get to Amity."

"Are you okay?" he asks again, his mocking reverence falling away in an instant.

"I've had a _very_ long morning, okay?" she brushes a hand through her hair, "I just want to _get home_."

"I know the feeling," he laughs, beginning to secure her bumper, "I'll have this fixed up in a second. You can go relax if you want."

She stares him down for a second, doing her best to read his expression. He seems honest enough, but, then again, she hadn't immediately known that Vlad Masters was a super-villain who wanted to murder the patriarch of her family.

"You know," he coughs, tearing the roll away, "We're headed to the same place. Maybe we can get coffee?"

She stares at him for a second, "…coffee?"

"Or something…you know," he shrugs, "…to celebrate the fact that neither of us have died or totaled our car?"

"…I…uh…" she can feel the heat rising to her face, "I need to get going…fittings and all, you know?"

"Yeah," he scratches nervously at a cheek, "I forgot. Maybe later…you have my number. I'm staying at the Hilton Amity Park."

They wait in silence for a moment before he clears his throat and pats the bumper, "Well, that should secure you until you get home."

"Thanks," she smiles, "I'll let you know when I've filed the report with my insurance company…until then, have a nice day, Mr. Blake."

"Call me Darren," he smiles, "You have a nice day too…Jazz, right?"

"That's right."

He waits for her to get into her car and she doesn't see him climb into his again until she's started to drive away. Her heart calms a little.

"He asked me out, right?" she asks to the empty car, "Am I imagining things?"

-BREAK-

_"__Ooh, Ghost Writer might have some competition, huh?"_

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm _not_ dating Ghost Writer, Lisa?!" she growls into her cell phone.

_"__But you like him, don't you?"_

"I enjoy talking to him, if that's what you mean," she replies simply, "I'd like to think we're friends…"

_"__He was your date to my wedding!"_ she sighs, _"And you looked _so good_ together!"_

She feels heat rise to her face. Lisa had gotten married eight months or so ago, and the appearance of a ghost at her wedding had caused a stir. Some photographer had gotten a photo of 'The Bridesmaid, Jasmine Fenton, and her spectral date'. Her visage, trapped within the ugliest dress she'd ever had to wear, was immortalized in print.

She prays every night that Danny will never find it. First of all, he didn't take it well the last time she dated a ghost – granted, he _was_ trying to steal her body and she didn't _know_ he was a ghost, but…nuances.

More importantly, she'd _never_ live down that dress. Ever.

"Even if I did," she sighs, "I wouldn't date Mr. Blake. He's just a guy who swiped the tail of my car and is heading to Amity Park."

_"__A _cute_ guy who crashed with you. I call that…fate," _she sighs.

"I thought you wanted me with Ghost Writer," she teases.

_"__Jazz, I'm beginning to reach the point where _I don't care. _You need _somebody_."_

"I'm fine. I'm busy with other things anyway."

_"__You'll understand someday, Jazz. Having a boyfriend is pretty awesome. You need to relax, which I _know_ you won't do on your own. Don't you want someone to discuss…whatever _you_ discuss regularly?"_

"I can talk to someone without dating him," she rolls her eyes.

_"__But it's not the _same_. Come _on, _Ghost Writer can keep up with you, and maybe this Darren guy can, if you want something…you know…living, which I couldn't blame you for…would loving a ghost make you a necrophiliac?"_

"Necrophilia is specific to _corpses_. Ghosts are…their bodies are living, if in a different sense. And he's _a friend_," Jazz frowns, "Remind me why I called you, Lisa?"

_"__You want someone to tell you to call up Darren and take him up on that date because accepting it yourself would be against your character,"_ she sings sweetly, _"Take him up on the coffee, or maybe take some to Ghost Writer. Either way, remember that your _younger brother_ is getting married _before you_."_

"He's known Sam for _years_," she snorts, "It's not like he's had to bother searching for his 'soul-mate'."

_"__Just do it. Love you, Jazzy,"_ she hangs up abruptly, ending their conversation.

"…Maybe I'll ask Sam instead."


	12. Arrivals in Elmerton

**A/N: Chapter 12~! …It's sad that I find myself thinking "AAAAAAHHHHHH! I haven't updated in FOREVER!" when it's been…a little more than a week for COF, but I updated The Funeral Singer on the 6****th**** and TWO Zelda fanfics on the 7****th****…I will admit, however, that I've been slacking for the past few days from a mixture of laziness and marathoning anime and manga.**

**I'm going to tell you the same thing I did to readers of The Funeral Singer:**

**_Reviews are important. A lot of time, your feedback affects my choices – sometimes I'm torn between two storylines that I really like, and it's YOUR feedback that ensures you're getting the story we'll all enjoy better. Not only that, but if it takes me more than…what, three days or so…to update, post another review and remind me to get my butt in gear!_**

**This is probably going to be the case with the (possible) triangle between Darren, Jazz, and Ghost Writer. When I was writing Adrift, I asked what you would think of a JazzxGW pairing, and the answers were mixed, with many of them dubious. While I feel like ****_I_**** favor JazzXGW, I want to experiment and see if I – if ****_we_**** – change our minds. I admit that Jazz and GW have some problems as a pairing: He's immortal, she's not. He's a ghost, an anti-life being who has ****_passed through_**** death. Anyway, Darren is now part of my little play-set here, and we'll see what happens. See if I can like him.**

**I'm still working on a shipping name for JazzxGW. Poetic Insight and Turquoise Calligraphy both have two votes…crap, I have to introduce another name…um…first, I'll give you the official list: Literary Analysis, Poetic Insight, Therapeutic Prose, Turquoise Scarf, Brainy Author, Therapeutic literature, Psychoanalytic Poetry, Psychology Writer, Turquoise Calligraphy, Library Love…and now…um …Writer's Insight? Remember to tell me your votes!**

Chapter #12: Arrivals in Elmerton

"So help me, Tucker, if you aren't here in the next five minutes–"

_"__Geez, Val, chill. I'm almost there. It's not _my_ fault they took _four hours_ to find my luggage!"_

"I just…" she pouts, "I miss you, Babe."

_"__I miss you too. I'm at the corner of Elm and Crossing."_

"I could be there within thirty seconds with my sled…"

_"__We are _not_ taking your sled, Valerie. It won't kill me to walk from the bus stop to the café. Just…give it a second. Absence and the heart and all…!" _she can hear his voice waver, and a horn honks in the background. Tucker swears viciously under his breath.

"Nice try at being romantic," she snorts.

_"__Some idiot just ran a red light and nearly ran me over. I think I have the right to be a little hurried."_

"Oh?" she arches an eyebrow, "What does the car look like? Did you get its license plate?"

_"__Val…"_ he begins warningly, _"You are _not_ going to hunt down some unknowing sod in his car."_

"Babe…"

_"__Val…"_

They wait in tense silence for a moment, until she looks up through the windows of the café and sees him, pulling a single suitcase. Their eyes meet, and she can hear the call disconnect in her ear.

He looks almost the same as he did at Christmas, when they shared pizza over Skype. She rushes out the door, sweeping her purse over her shoulder, and hugs him hard enough to rock him backwards. He laughs, a low chuckle, as he places his lips firmly on hers, "Good to see you too, Val," he grins.

"Almost didn't," she presses another quick kiss to his lips, "Sure you don't want to…inform that driver that he needs to watch himself?"

His grin falls, his eyes narrowed in frustration, "Val…_leave it._ He's long gone."

"But _Tucker_…" she pouts, brushing her lips against his neck. His breath hitches momentarily, and she can't resist a smirk – it's one of his weak spots, the little hollow in his throat between his jaw and ear.

"It's no use, Val," he answers tensely.

"Is that so?" she purrs, tracing innocent little circles on his chest.

"Keep this up," he growls back, his breath hot on her ear, "And the only place it's going to lead is a hotel room."

"Oh?" she smirks.

"Get a room!" someone calls from the café, turning their cheeks red; Tucker's more than hers. He slings an arm around her shoulder, and they walk to her convertible, throwing his luggage into the trunk.

"I can't believe you _drove_ here all the way from Stanford."

"It's less than two days. We needed a car, and neither of us are old enough to rent one," she snorts, "Because _someone_ refuses to use the sled."

"Could it really hold us _and_ our luggage?"

She frowns, her hands planted at her hips, and raises a single eyebrow, "It can haul two large, burly, government agents off of their feet against their will and carry them to an office in Amity Park's City Hall," she answers dryly.

"Point made," he laughs, "and public transportation is out of the question."

She grimaces, "Absolutely."

"It would've taken less time for _me_ to drive here, Val. It's what…Thirty or so hours from Stanford? It's a little more than twenty from Cabridge."

"Your car couldn't make it," she snorts.

"True," he sighs, buckling in.

She starts the car and they pull out into Elmerton's streets, easing their way through traffic towards Amity Park.

"So have you heard the news?" he asks.

"What news?"

"Kitty and Johnny are _finally_ getting married," he grins, "I told Danny to get us a couple of invites when they have the date pinned down."

"About time," she snorts, "I mean, I've always considered them…indefinitely engaged, myself."

"Yeah," he fall quiet, "I guess it shows how old we're getting. Johnny and Kitty are getting married, so are Danny and Sam. Box Ghost and Lunch Lady are going to have a kid soon. I still feel like I turned sixteen yesterday, though. Is that weird?"

"No," she laughs softly, and he watches the wind pull at her curled hair, "Feeling like you're sixteen, anyhow," a wry grin spreads on her face, "We're only nineteen, Tuck. You shouldn't be reminiscing like an old man before you're old enough to drink."

"Tell me you haven't done it either, Val," he whispers back.

"…I think the only thing that inspires that feeling is Danny and Sam's wedding, honestly," she answers, "I mean, I know why…I know why they aren't hesitating. They're made for each other – don't get me wrong – but…"

"They just don't want to miss anything," he finishes, "Danny's like a candle, sitting outside. It'll probably be okay, but it might burn your house down. The wind makes it flicker, sometimes you even think it might put it out, but it doesn't. Regardless, you find yourself watching the sky for clouds, waiting for rain, praying it never comes. The only difference is that you can relight a candle."

The drive in silence for a while, watching the Minnesota countryside pass them by. She glances over at him once in a while, his eyes closed and his seat reclined.

"…I wish I could take his place, sometimes," he whispers finally, "…Have you ever seen him when he can't fulfill his obsession, Val?"

She shakes her head.

"It starts with little things, at first. He looks tired, a bit paler than usual. Then he begins to get clammy to the touch, and the muscle spasms begin. Little ones, mostly in his hands. He begins to feel nauseated, and then he starts coughing. He said…" he clenches a hand, "…that it was like being electrocuted all over again, the worse it got. He couldn't sleep – he'd relive his death. He remembers it, you know, the accident. His heart clamping in his chest, his lungs paralyzed…the fear he felt, realizing that he couldn't inhale another breath…" his voice is tight, wavering slightly.

"…I'm not sure if I could be as strong as Sam," she sniffs after a few minutes.

"She's not as strong as she looks," he whispers, "she's terrified of it. She's had nightmares ever since the accident. They change a little, but it's always the same. Danny's funeral. She called me up one night, a little after the Pariah Dark incident, and just cried. Sobbed. She didn't even say anything. She just cried into the receiver for more than an hour," he forces a smirk onto his face, "The only thing she actually _said_ was 'If you tell anyone, Foley, _especially _Danny, I'll skin your PDAs and then _you_. _Alive_.'"

"I'm totally telling her you told me," Val grins, watching the blood drain from his face.

"Please don't," he pleads, "I'll do _anything_."

"I don't know…you _did_ break her trust…"

"We weren't friends with you at the time," he snorts, "Or she probably would've called _you_…I just…Sam's my friend, Val. I want you to understand her. It always ticked me off when people at school would write her off as 'unfeeling,' and I want to make sure you aren't one of them."

"…I'll let you off easy," she decides finally, earning a relieved sigh.

"…But I didn't say scot-free, now did I?"

**A/N: Now that the main cast in nearly assembled, the real plot should be kicking off in the next few chapters! I've been giving little hints until now…Oh, and expect a Danielle chapter! She hasn't had one in a while. :D**


	13. Jungle

**A/N: I KNOW I TOOK FOREVER TO UPDATE BUT IT'S A LONGER CHAPTER SO WHEEEE!**

**Okay, so some of you will be familiar with what Val's talking about further down. This is because not everyone reads the Oneshots, so I apologize if I'm constantly reinforcing things I've already mentioned.**

**We have votes for: Turquoise Calligraphy, Library Love, Brainy Author, and Poetic Insight. What if we combine the two most popular names, Turquoise Calligraphy and Poetic Insight? Insightful Calligraphy? Turquoise Poetry? More on JazzxGW below!**

Chapter #13: Jungle

"Valerie!" Danielle grins, leaping into the Huntress's arms, "How've you been?"

"Pretty good," she replies, "You?"

"School sucks. So do ghosts," she snorts, earning a hearty laugh from the other girl.

"Sounds about right."

"And it's all Danny's fault."

"Always," she grins widely, "So, _besides_ the requisite awfulness, how's school?"

Dani shrugs, "It's school, I suppose."

"Any friends?"

"Not really," she answers, "I wouldn't say I'm _unpopular_, but…people tend to avoid me," she finishes quietly.

Val worries her lip, "You're pretty cool, though. I imagine you're good at sports – you're not hiding it like Danny, right?"

"Nope," she shakes her head, "I'm always among the first pick for gym. It's just…they seem to like me fine, but everyone keeps their distance. They can sense it, Val," she shrugs, "that I'm different. You feel it too, don't you?"

She sighs, sitting on the couch, "There _is_ this feeling around the two of you," she admits, "Sometimes, you just hear this little voice in the back of your head telling you that…that you're not supposed to be here – not in a 'we don't want you here'-way though…it's…" she takes a deep breath, "It's the same way you feel at a zoo. You love watching the tigers in their enclosure, but there's a part of you remembering that they don't belong there – they belong in some jungle somewhere, hunting freely. It's like that, I guess."

"So where's our jungle, Val?" Danielle questions soberly.

"I don't know, kiddo," she laughs, tugging lightly Dani's black ponytail, "You'll have to find it someday."

Dani cracks a smile, "…Oh, actually, I do have _one_ friend…maybe? Kind-of?...if Danny didn't traumatize him?"

"Oh?" she raises an eyebrow, "_him_, huh?"

"It's not like that," she pouts, "Geez, Mad–_Mom_ reacted the same way!"

"Getting used to calling her 'Mom', huh?"

"Danny corrects me _every time,_" she admits sheepishly, "I'm…working on it."

"It'll get easier," Valerie assures.

"It's just…" Danielle shifts uneasily, rubbing at the back of her neck, "What if they change their minds, Val? I…I'm a freak made in some laboratory. I'm a clone of _their son_ made by _his arch-nemesis!_ I…"

"_Dani,_" she frowns, planting her hands firmly on the halfa's shoulders, "Look me in the eyes and tell me that the Fentons seem like the type of people to change their minds. You have Fenton DNA, so tell me – would _you_ change your mind?"

"No," she admits.

"See? Nothing to worry about. The Fenton family is a stubborn bunch. I think Maddie's enjoyed teaching you, and Jack just loves having another princess to pamper."

_Maddie stares down at the forms sleeping on her couch, her eyes ringed by shadows and verging on tears. It's late, the only light coming from the kitchen, where Tucker rummages for a midnight snack._

_"__My babies just…they grew up so fast, Valerie. What choice did I give them? I spent all my time in the lab after Jazz turned ten or so. I told myself it was for _them_, that if Jack and I finished the Ghost Portal, we could live comfortably _and_ still fund the lab. But…is that what they really needed, Val?"_

_"__I don't know, Mrs. Fenton," she answers honestly, "They're good people, though. That's all that matters. What good will it do you to wonder about all of the 'what ifs'? I mean, what if you and Jack hadn't gone out shopping that day? What if the portal had worked the first time you plugged it in? What if it had been completely disconnected from all power sources when Danny went inside? Danny didn't grow up 'too fast' because of _you_, he grew up too fast because he became a teenage superhero. Need I quote Uncle Ben?"_

_"__That doesn't excuse Jazz," she whispers, "I left her to pretty much take care of Danny when they were younger."_

_"__Eh," Val shrugs, "She's the first child. Normally, we're _royally_ screwed up, but you seem to have done a pretty good job."_

_"__Thanks, Val…" she smiles tiredly, "Now go and make sure your boyfriend stays out of the ice-cream. I need that for tomorrow."_

_"__Roger that, Mrs. Fenton."_

"So, anyway, spill it," Valerie grins, "Tell me about this guy who _might_ be your friend and _might_ have been traumatized by your brother."

"Danny's overreacting."

"Is that supposed to be new, somehow?"

-BREAK-

"Well, Tuck, welcome…to _Hell_," Danny mutters through his grin.

"Nice way to refer to your wedding, man," he snorts in reply.

"It's the _planning_. You and Val should just elope."

"_Dude_," Tucker hisses, "That's a _long_ way away. We might not even…I mean, we could always break up."

"You'd get back together," Danny shrugs – as much as he can without earning an angry grumble from the French tailor running around his body with pins, "And _you_ wouldn't be the one to break it off. Val might call it quits in a fit of anger, then decide to try other people to stretch her wings a bit…and then she'd call you up and suggest that you get a coffee, for old times' sake. Then you'd start dating again."

"…I can't believe you've given it that much thought," he chuckles.

"I haven't. Discussions with Alex and Jaden can be pretty insightful. They're _really good_ at reading people. They should create a website and get rich."

"Speaking of those two, I hear you told them?"

"Yeah. It was that or let them die, Tuck," he whispers, "They'll keep quiet."

"Alright. How did Sam take it?"

"I wasn't sure I was going to survive _that_ mental lashing. I sat under a tree in the park for three hours with a _massive_ headache."

"You're so whipped – _ow!_" he begins to laugh, only to be poked with a tailor's pin and assaulted with an angry string of French.

"Yeah, and I'm oddly okay with that," Danny sighs.

Tucker just shakes his head, "So…I hear Sam and her mom have finally agreed on a dress – so long as it has a color change?"

"Yeah," Danny nods, "Thank _goodness_. And Sam's taking the bridesmaids to scan through a few dresses – she has some in mind, but she wants their opinion."

"We seem to have it relatively easy, Danny," Tuck chews his lip, "I mean, we just have to wear a tux. It's pretty simple."

"Just never tell that to Pam," Danny groans, "She'll lecture you for an hour about different lapel and collar styles and what's 'in'. Just…don't."

"Got it."

-BREAK-

"So, thankfully, Mom's at home, sleeping off a headache," Sam grins, "So we get to go look for dresses by ourselves."

"Hallelujah," Dani comments.

"No kidding," Val snorts.

"You have no idea how happy it makes me that we're _all_ going to check out these dresses," Jazz groans, "I got stuck in an _awful_ one this past January."

"Yeah?" Valerie grins, "When you took the Ghost Writer as your date?"

"_What?!_" the rest of the car shrieks. Val grins, Jazz's mouth hanging open.

"He…it's not…" she stammers.

"It's not…?" Valerie presses.

"Does Danny know?" Sam hisses.

"No!" Jazz shouts, "And don't you dare…!" all the blood drains from her face, "Please tell me he didn't hear that through some telepathic channel…"

"No, no," Sam shakes her head, "We stay out of each other's heads, for the most part. I mean, I'm always keeping an ear to his emotions, but…anyway, Jazz…I think you have some explaining to do."

"Look at this picture first," Val smiles, passing her phone around, "Tuck and I found it on a website in February."

"Oh, _wow_," Sam winces, "That is an _ugly_ dress…"

"I know," Jazz groans, her face in her hands, "_Please_ never show it to Danny. I'll _never_ live it down…"

"So…explain?" Val grins.

"I-I didn't invite him. Lisa – the bride – was my roommate at the time. On Christmas Eve, Ghost Writer showed up to give me a book I'd been looking for. While he's there, I decide to make him some hot chocolate and ask him some questions for my paper – we do it all the time, though it's usually at his library. Anyway, Lisa comes out while we're talking and just…invites him to her wedding! He didn't really give her an answer, but I told him the address just in case. He decided to show up last-minute and we talked for most of the reception – as Lisa had planned. She just wanted to make sure I had someone I could actually _talk_ to, you know? So..."

"So he was _totally_ your date!" Dani grins.

"We're just _friends!_"

"Crystal says: Lovebirds, lovebirds!" Sam sings.

"We are _not lovebirds_!"

The entire car breaks out in laughter.

"You know how well that one went last time, right?" Valerie smiles.

Jazz presses her burning cheeks against the window, "We're intellectual associates."

"Mmmm-hmm."

"Is _that_ what they're calling it nowadays?" Sam smirks.

"I told you that _it's not like that!_"

"Crystal disagrees," Sam transmits, "And thinks you'd make a pretty good couple. I mean, not everyone in Amity Park _knows_ Ghost Writer like we do, but she's read the Ghost Files that Tucker created."

"He has a _file?!_"

Valerie clears her throat, pulling it up on her phone, "Ghost Writer. Powers: Reality manipulation through text. Others unknown. Appearance: Grey skin, pointed ears. Short, black, messy hair, goatee. Approximately six-two. Purple coat and grey scarf. Green eyes. Core: Hot. Power Level: Estimated to be eight. Obsession: Books, Writing. Lair: Mansion/Library at coordinates…" she rattles off a few numbers, "…Threat Assessment: Low, unless provoked," she finishes, "It has a little paragraph in the 'Further Information' section. It just mentions that he's a writer and usually even tempered, though a little impulsive at times. 'An important note: Do not destroy books. Doing so aggravates his obsession and can cause a rather villainous turn of mind."

"Learned that lesson from Danny," Sam smiles, "Oh, we're here."

They pull into the parking lot of the bridal boutique, the five girls piling out of the black, four-door BMW.

"Now, we're just finding the _type_ of dress we want," Sam explains as they make their way across the parking lot, "We're pretty sure we want pale silver as the color – any complaints?"

"Nothing comes to mind," Valerie answers.

"So the Maid of Honor has no issues. Anyone else?"

"Just nothing too shimmery," Danielle wrinkles her nose.

"I agree – no satin. Not a lot, anyway," Jazz nods.

"And Crystal's fine," Sam comments to herself.

The boutique is comfortable inside, not too hot or cold. The carpet is pale cream, the walls covered in vintage white-and-cream-striped wallpaper. An arrangement of couches rests to their right, and the reception desk waits next to a curtained doorway. Sam strides to the desk.

"Manson, party of five," she smiles.

"Ah, yes, Ms. Manson," the receptionist smiles, "getting measurements for your dress and searching for the bridesmaids today, correct?"

She nods.

"Please follow me," she takes her clipboard and escorts them through the doorway, which opens to a large ballroom, illuminated by a domed, glass roof. Dresses on mannequins are artfully arranged, along with racks of dresses, "So…any particular order today?"

"I figure we might as well find the bridesmaid dresses first, and take everyone's measurements at the same time," Sam answers.

"I agree," the receptionist – Sarah – smiles, "Aria – over by that changing room, the one with the red hair? She'll be your assistant today. If you need _anything_ – have to try anything on, have questions – just ask her. Enjoy your shopping today."

She strides away quickly, leaving the party to browse.

"So we were thinking...chiffon," Sam begins, "It's light and easy to move in. Doesn't shimmer too much," she adds with a smirk, "Give me a minute," she glides over towards Aria.

Dani lets her eyes wander a bit, skimming over all of the white and cream gowns. Her eyes lock temporarily on the sky above. She likes the natural lighting. It makes everything feel less…confined.

_I want to go flying,_ she pouts, _it's so pretty outside!_

"-on. Maybe a halter top."

"This way," Aria smiles, leading the group away.

_But I'm still trapped, huh? I wonder if this is how that tiger feels, Val._

-BREAK-

"Hi, I'm Elaine," she smiles, brushing back a lock of chocolate hair, "I'll be taking your measurements for your dresses today. Now, I'll be taking your exact measurements, but we'll have the dresses _made_ a little larger. Then a week or so before the wedding, we'll take your measurements again, pull them in as needed, and it'll fit nicely for the occasion. Now…let's start with the bride?"

Dani and the others are shuffled out of the changing stall to wait in some chairs just outside.

"…Yeah, Sarah? Oh, just send him in. There's only one group back here. I doubt they'll mind. Yes, thank you," they can hear Elaine say into her radio, "My son's here to drop off my lunch. You don't mind if he comes back here, do you? I promise he'll stay on _that_ side of the curtain," they can hear the wink in her voice.

"I don't mind at all," Sam replies, "…if I may ask, you don't seem like you're from around here…"

"No," she laughs, "We moved here recently, the two of us."

"Where from?"

"Arizona," she answers, laughing a moment later, "I know – big change, right? We're pretty used to it. Hopefully we'll be here for a while."

"What brought you here?"

"Work. The store I was working at closed down, and it was a branch of this store, so the higher-ups asked me if I'd be willing to transfer."

"At least they like you, huh?"

They share a laugh, not hearing when the double-doors to the fitting area opens.

"Mom! I have your lun–" he freezes mid-step, his green eyes wide.

"Ashton?" her lips gape slightly.

"D-Danielle?" he squeaks.

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam brushes aside the curtain. She stands on a pedestal as Elaine finishes pinning something in place. A wide grin spreads on the Goth's face as she scans the transfer student, "So _you're_ Ashton? Nice to meet you – I'm Danny's fiancée, Sam."

"N-nice to meet you," he stutters, taking her hand.

"Ashton, you know them?"

"Y-yeah," he nods, "Well, I know Danny and Danielle," he motions to where the halfa sits, "A-and now Sam, I guess."

"Oh, you're Danny _Fenton's_ fiancée! Of _course_!" she smiles, turning to Danielle, "Thanks for helping my son out, Danielle. He's useless with maps – you wouldn't think he is, given that he's an artist, but…"

"Mom!" he hisses, his cheeks turning pink.

"Call me Dani," she smiles.

"I'm Danny's sister, Jasmine – call me Jazz," she smiles, adding with a whisper, "Sorry about my brother. He can be overprotective."

"N-no, it's fine," he swallows nervously.

"Ah, you're the guy…" Val snickers, "But seriously, just ignore Danny. The first time his older sister dated someone, he was a ghost out to steal her body for his girlfriend. He's been paranoid ever since. Don't let it get to you."

Crystal blinks in confusion.

"We'll explain it for you later," Sam assures her.

"I'm a little confused myself," Elaine raises an eyebrow, catching her son's eyes.

"I-it's nothing, really," he stutters.

"Oh?"

"Really!"

**A/N: So, most people seem to be leaning towards Jazz x GW, which is good – because I prefer it too. Don't worry, though, Darren has multiple purposes, depending on how I end up writing various story elements. Now, to answer some reviews!**

**LotusWriter786: Yeah, they aren't what TV Tropes would call a 'Beta Couple'.**

**LunarCatNinja: Well, you'll have to keep reading to find out. Besides…never trust what I write until the book is finished. Let's just leave that as my advice to you.**

**Plot should be kicking in next chapter! YEAH! YAY for…THIRTEEN CHAPTERS OF CAST BUILDING!**

**EDIT: 1/19/15, 11:16 PM: ****There seems to be a misunderstanding here. Sam's getting the color of dress she wants. She's just trying on the same dress with the default white coloring so that they can fiddle around with getting the right measurements and deciding how to adjust the train etc., etc. After they get the info they need, they have to custom-make the dress in the right colors. Sorry for the confusion.**


	14. Past and Future

**A/N: So, quick timeline: The attack with the "Seven Days" warning happened on Wednesday. Danny talked with Clockwork on Thursday. The Observants' Council Meeting was on Friday. Jazz showed up on Saturday. Sam tried to induce a heart attack on Pamela on Sunday, Tucker and Valerie showed up on Monday and immediately got stuck with dress fitting/tux tailoring.**

**Today is Tuesday. Tomorrow is the promised "Seventh Day"**

**Sorry that this chapter is so short, but…it's kind of a WHAM chapter. :D Answers to reviews at the end!**

Chapter #14: Past and Future

Clockwork can feel it – something is happening in the Ghost Zone, something that he's long since foreseen. His grip tightens on his staff, and he takes a deep, calming breath.

If things go wrong, they go _horribly_ wrong.

_They won't, though_, he assures himself, _everything will go as it should. We will, perhaps, find ourselves a little worse for wear, but sometimes you have to tear up the grass to plant a field._

He turns to look through a single window through time, seeing a vibrant, glowing city. It floats upon the miasma of the Infinite Realms, which seem somehow…brighter. Not the dim light he's used to – something infinitely more pure, more akin to sunlight.

The Infinite Realms used to have continents much like those in the Mortal Realm. They all varied, some with forests, others with vibrant flowers, and more with icy, snow-capped mountains, all populated with peaceful souls living peaceful lives. Some were barren, desolate wastelands full of dark souls possessed by their obsessions.

One could argue that the Infinite Realms used to contain both Heaven and Hell.

So they did, until Pariah Dark swept in and shattered them all, scattering them into the unending expanse. Now it is neither – it is Purgatory, abandoned by even Death himself. He took the few souls uncorrupted by the king and vanished – to where, even the Ghost of Time doesn't know.

"You _must_ wear the crown, Daniel," he hisses into his window, "You _must_ save us."

He is the only one who understands – save for The Ancients, wherever they are. He cannot find _them_ either. He curses under his breath – they always _were_ a difficult bunch to deal with. His brothers and sisters, the only ghosts as old as he.

_War is brimming in Amity Park!_ Danny had snarled at the council.

"I'm afraid, my young halfa," he sighs, "War is brimming here, too."

**A/N: We have more votes for "Library Love" and "Turquoise Poetry"! We also have one for Turquoise Scarf and Insightful Calligraphy! **

**Guest (****_Wish you'd chosen a name!_****): Yes, there is a lot of foreshadowing. I wrote TWO FICS before this one FOR THE PURPOSE OF BUILDING THE WORLD and FORESHADOWING. So, heck yeah. You'll just have to see what IS foreshadowing and what ISN'T. ;P**

**Randamwriter: I feel like you're partially right. Danny would freak out initially, and then Sam would tell him that Jazz's love life is none of his business – so long as GW isn't being malicious – and that she's a big girl and can make her own decisions. Danny would (quietly) storm over to GW's, tell him very quietly that he will completely ****_obliterate_**** him if he hurts Jazz, and then leave it at that. Ghost Writer would keep sipping quietly at his coffee the whole time, trying to decide whether to play along or deny any such relationship between he and Jazz.**

**deathnoteno1fan-codegeasslover: Welcome! I hope you enjoyed the previous two books as well! **


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